Fallout: The Journey Forward
by Relks the Disturbed
Summary: Isaac lived the good life in Vault 101, a job he liked, friends and family who loved him. But all that changed when his dad left. Now he's forced to abandon the only home he's ever known to search for his old man. He has a long journey ahead of him, but nowhere to go but forward. Rated T-M for violence, language, and explicit content.
1. Chapter 1: Not Who I Used To Be

** Okay, time for a little re-introduction. Hello, everyone, I am Relks the Disturbed. I've been writing for awhile, but this if my first major work in a few years. If anyone recognizes me, I was formerly the author of the Devil May Cry fanfic Devils Among Humanity. It was politely pointed out by a pair of reviewers that my character was too gary stu-ish, and that it was making the story uninteresting and predictable. So I took a step back, and have spent the last while getting better at "imperfecting" my main protagonists. So, if you spot any such problems with my new work, please by all means point it out to me. I'm striving to be the best I can be and horrible characters limit that exponentially. Anyways, now that that's out of the way, enjoy! **

**P.S. I have a mad love of making references, which will be sometimes be obvious, and sometimes subtle. I hereby challenge you to find as many as you can. ^_^**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Fallout series, or any other referenced content, it is the property of Bethesda Softworks**

* * *

**2274...**

"But, Dad, do I have to?" The sixteen-year-old whined as his father finished the final part of his physical in the clinic of Vault 101. He tried to appear sick, he really did, but to no avail. His dark blue eyes met his father's own brown ones as they stared each other down. Isaac Stark, for that was the young boy's name, tried to hold his father's gaze, but eventually faltered. He dropped his gaze in defeat, and his father reached out a hand to ruffle his messy dark brown hair.

"Yes, son, you have to take the G.O.A.T.. I had to take it, and so did everyone else in the Vault, so you do too," Jame said, giving his son an encouraging smile. 'Already sixteen... it seems like yesterday he was sneaking out of his playpen as a baby,' James thought to himself as his son hopped down from the examination table. Isaac wasn't the biggest kid for his age, standing only at 5' 5", but he was pretty sturdy for his size. Be that as it may, it didn't prevent James from worrying about him, not with those Tunnel Snake boys running around.

"Just be careful on your way to class, son," James told him. He remembered back to Isaac's tenth birthday, when Butch DeLoria had actually gotten into a fight with Isaac. Officer Gomez had broken it up before it got too bad, but not before Isaac had gotten a black eye. After that, Officer Gomez had offered to teach Isaac a little boxing, if not just to protect himself until he could find a security officer, and James had reluctantly agreed.

"Don't worry, Dad. I'm not afraid of that asshole, Butch," Isaac said with a confident smile, before James gave him a look.

"Language, young man," James said, looking stern.

"Sorry, Dad," Isaac said, grinning sheepishly.

"It's okay, son, just try not to let it happen around me again. Now you better get going, don't want to be late for the big test," James said, shooing him out of the office.

Isaac smiled at Jonas as he left the clinic, and then proceeded to take a right and head down the hallway towards his classroom. He frowned as he saw Amata Almodovar, his lifelong friend, being harassed by the Tunnel Snakes. Butch DeLoria, the self-proclaimed leader, Wally Mack, the know-it-all who thinks he's in charge, and Paul Hannon Jr., who -in Isaac's opinion- seemed like a nice enough guy when Butch and Wally weren't around, were the only three members of Vault 101's resident gang. Isaac approached cautiously, keeping his anger in check as he saw them slowly surrounding Amata.

"Leave me alone, you stupid Tunnel Snakes!" Amata yelled as she tried to move past them only to be blocked by Paul.

"Come with me after the test, and I'll show you a real 'tunnel snake'," Butch grinned lecherously from where he leaned on the wall, blocking the way to the classroom from Amata.

"Having fun?" Isaac said, stepping forward between Paul and Butch. Amata's eyes lit up with relief when she saw him, only to be replaced by worry as all three Tunnel Snakes glared at their fellow teen.

"None of your business, kid. Mess with the Tunnel Snakes, you're gonna get hurt, got me?" Butch said as he stood straight, the other Tunnel Snakes bucking up for a fight.

"I'm making it my business, Butch. Leave her alone, or else," Isaac said, glaring back at Butch.

"Oh, yeah, pipsqueak?" Butch growled as he got in Isaac's face, staring his down. While Isaac was 5' 5", Butch was closer to 5' 7", "Or else what?"

"Or else this!" Isaac growled back, jumping slightly as he snapped his head forward and slammed his forehead into Butch's nose. Paul swung at him with a left hook, and Isaac ducked as the past six years of boxing practice took hold. Isaac side-stepped Paul's clumsy hook and returned with two left jabs to the chin, followed by a right cross. The classic combo dropped Paul quickly, and Isaac turned just in time to catch Butch's right fist in the nose.

Isaac groaned at the pain as his head snapped back, and his brought up his arms to protect his face as Butch tried to punch him more with clumsy left-right combinations. Wally Mack tried to get involved as well, and Isaac found himself dodging and blocking more than fighting back. He took his chance when Wally stepped in front of Butch to try and get in the finishing punch. The Tunnel Snake threw a flashy right straight that Isaac saw coming a mile away. Isaac bobbed his head to the left to dodge the punch, and laid in several a series of hard punches to Wally's stomach.

Isaac managed to hit Wally's liver a couple times, and the pain of the repeated hits convinced Wally that Isaac was more trouble than he was worth. Isaac turned to Butch as Wally picked up Paul and ran off towards the classroom, and motioned for him to attack. Butch looked back and forth between his retreating fellow gang and Isaac. Apparently he thought differently than his friends, and attacked Isaac again.

Isaac dodged the first right straight that Butch threw, grinning at the Tunnel Snake. Butch saw this and was only angered further, throwing a series of quick left and right punches. Isaac dodged the first few, but then got two left hooks to his side. He grunted in pain and stopped moving, and Butch took advantage. Butch began hitting him repeatedly, Isaac's grunts of pain as he tried to protect his head raising Butch's spirits.

Isaac's sides soon hurt too much to move with his previous agility, and the fight broke down into a slugging match. Butch would catch him in his body, and Isaac would return by slugging him back. After they traded a few punches, Isaac made a mistake and caught a left hook to the jaw that left him reeling. His vision blurred for a moment, but he managed to see Butch's next punch and block it. Then he struck out with a big, hard right straight. Butch wasn't fast enough and caught the punch full in the face, knocking him out cold.

Isaac panted for a minute and wiped a bit of blood from his busted lip, then smiled at Amata, "You okay?"

Amata shook her head at her friend's actions, "I should be asking you that. Thanks for getting rid of them. Assholes."

"My pleasure," Isaac grinned, as he tried to shake off the soreness from the recent fight.

"Well, we should get going," Amata said, smiling at Isaac before she walked into the classroom. Isaac followed behind her, and after a snide remark from Mr. Brotch, they began the dreaded G.O.A.T. exam. Isaac swallowed a lump in his throat, wishing he was still fighting the Tunnel Snakes as the test began.

_15 Minutes Later..._

Isaac shifted nervously from foot to foot as Mr. Brotch looked over his exam. His anxiety only increased as Mr. Brotch's eyebrows raised at his result. '_Not plumbing...not plumbing... please oh please..." _he thought to himself anxiously. It was relieved a bit when Mr. Brotch smiled at him.

"I'm surprised, Mr. Stark. Seems you're aptitude is for the engineering track. Congratulations," Mr. Brotch smiled, before sending Isaac on his way. Isaac sighed in relief as he left the classroom. Amata was waiting for him, and the two headed off towards the cafeteria for a well expected lunch.

* * *

-3 Years Later-

Isaac sat outside the huge door of Vault 101, staring at the large yellow "101" painted in the center of the massive gear shaped door. A few hours ago he had just been Isaac Stark, a member of the engineering crew for Vault 101, a happy-go-lucky kid with a tangent for smart remarks and a mean left hook. He stared down at the bloodstains on his Vault 101 jumpsuit, felt the weight of the looted items in the satchel strapped to his back, the cold of the metal 10mm pistol he still held in his right hand. In the past few hours, the kid in him died...

* * *

It all started with Amata waking him, biting back sobs as she explained what happened. Dad left the Vault, and as the Vault was unsealed, so too was Overseer Alphonse Almodovar's rage. Jonas, kind, happy Jonas, had been beaten to death by Vault Security for helping his father. In a cruel twist of fate, just as his father had left, the worst radroach attack they'd ever experienced occurred. In the resulting panic, the Overseer abused his power in full. Vault Security was told to apprehend Isaac, dead or alive.

After Amata had caught him up on the horror of it all, they had agreed that he could no longer stay in the Vault. He had to follow his dad, to the world outside. As they had grown up, Amata and Isaac had tossed around ideas of the world outside, of seeing it together someday. Neither of them wanted to get to see it like this.

Amata had offered him her father's 10mm pistol, but Isaac refused it. He wanted to resolve this with as little death as possible. With that, Amata had left his family's "apartment", and told him that she'd meet him at the Vault door. He gathered a few of his things in a satchel-bag Officer Gomez had given him for his seventeenth birthday, and began stuffing items in it. He emptied the family first aid kit, packed a few spare Vault suits, and grabbed his baseball bat. He wanted to leave without violence if possible, but at the very least he had to protect himself from radroaches.

He'd set out from his room, intent on trying to sneak to the Overseer's office and to get through the secret exit with as little attention as possible. That changed when he saw Officer Kendall being swarmed by four radroaches. A small voice in the back of his head said to leave the security officer, that the radroaches would be a good distraction while he escaped, and Isaac quickly subdued that voice. Wielding his baseball bat, Isaac jumped into the fray to help Officer Kendall, smashing 'roaches as hard as he could.

"Are you okay, sir?" he had asked when the roaches were gone, only to see Officer Kendall turn to him with the police baton raised.

"He's over here!" the security officer yelled. "Got you now!" he yelled at Isaac, swinging the baton at Isaac's face. The young man barely got the bat up in time to block the attack, and the small bulb at the end of the baton's shaft left a dent in the wood of the bat. Isaac looked at the dent in his bat for a split second, and saw Kendall pulling back for another swing. The officer swung again, and Isaac again tried to block. However he misjudged the distance this time, and the metal rod smacked hard across his upper left arm.

_'He's gonna kill me...' _Isaac realized with terror. Kendall swung once more, uttering curses as he attacked the young man. Isaac opted to dodge instead of block the next hit, and before he knew what he was doing he swung back. Officer Kendall had over extended himself with his last attack, and Isaac's bat smacked into the side of the officer's head with a loud crack.

Kendall's security helmet protected him from most of the damage, and he recovered quickly. He raised his arm high over his head and swung it straight down hard and fast. Isaac raised the bat and his arms, blocking the hit with the fat hitting end of the bat. The boxing strategy Isaac had been learning for almost ten years converted easily to melee with weapons: Block or dodge, look for a gap in your opponent's attacks, return fire. Isaac did just that when Kendall pulled back, slamming the bat hard into Kendall's right forearm where the padding of the security armor was thin. A sickening crunch complimented the impact, and Kendall cried out in pain and dropped his police baton. Isaac's next actions would torture him in the coming hours, as he acted purely on instinct and began repeatedly hitting Kendall with the bat, seeing what he was doing but moving without thought, his body in total control with his mind given the backseat.

When Isaac finally regained control of himself and his mind cleared, he looked down to see the corpse of the man who had once been Officer Kendall of the Vault 101 Security Force. The visor of Kendall's helmet had shattered after five or six downward hits, and Kendall's face was almost too crushed and broken to recognize. Isaac dropped the bat to the floor, the wooden weapon bouncing with a staccato of small bangs before it settled to the ground. He fell to his knees as he realized what he'd done, and tears ran freely down his face.

"I killed him," he had muttered, more to himself than to anyone else, as he stared at the body. He sat there for almost ten minutes, staring at the body before the small voice from before came back.

_'You defended yourself! If you hadn't killed him he would of killed you. You saw the look on his face, he was high on bloodlust and would've killed you even if you had surrendered peacefully!' _the voice said. Some abstract part of Isaac told him that voice was his logic working, the scientific, no-nonsense security that had come from years of studying medicine with his dad and dealing with the various mechanical problems the two hundred year old Vault experienced. It was a cold, emotionless little voice, that told him exactly what he knew the best solution was, regardless of what he actually might feel about that solution. He seldom did exactly what it said, but he knew that, as far as his brain could come up with solutions, it was always right.

_'Now get up! You have to get moving! If nothing else, the less time you stay in one place the less likely you'll have to kill anyone else!' _Isaac did as the little voice, which he now dubbed his "survivalist voice", told him to. But instead of heading towards the exit like he was supposed to, he found himself running into one of the restrooms situated just outside his apartment. He threw a stall door open, and as the image of Kendall's broken and bloodied face flashed in his mind, he vomited.

He managed to stop puking five minutes later, coughing as he slowly tried to embrace the idea of survival. _Yes, he killed a man. Yes, he felt horrible for it and part of him died when he did. Would he do it again, if it meant staying alive long enough to escape the Vault and find his dad? ...Yes. _

He flushed the toilet as the realization dawned on him, and the sound of one of the doors to the restroom opening reached his ears. He quickly spun around, registering almost as an afterthought that he was now holding the police baton that had once belonged to Officer Kendall. Standing there in the doorway, looking terrified beyond all belief, was Butch DeLoria. The boy's skin was almost two shades paler than normal, even more livid than Isaac's own pale skin, and his breathing was ragged.

"You've gotta help me!" he said, his eyes darting back the way he'd came before looking back at Isaac, "My mom's trapped in there with the Radroaches."

The sheer unlikelihood of the situation gave Isaac pause, and if not for the recent murder he'd just committed, he might of laughed, "Butch... asking me for help. If only you understood what the word "Irony" meant..." he said to the Tunnel Snake.

"Yeah, I'm asking you. So What. Look, I'm sorry for the way I've always treated you, okay? You know I never really meant any of it, right?" Butch said, actually looking a bit sorry, much to Isaac's surprise. Isaac however, still didn't seem very convinced. How convenient that when Butch needed his help, and near impossibility on its own, that he was also suddenly sorry for bullying him almost his entire life. Though, in the past three years the Tunnel Snakes had learned that not only was Isaac probably one of the biggest nerds in their age group, he also had gotten very good at boxing.

"Please, man, it's my mom. You can't leave her there with the Radroaches," Butch begged. Suddenly, all the bravado of the tough guy in leather vanished, and Isaac saw what Butch really was: A sad kid with an alcoholic mother, who just wanted to feel like he might actually be worth something. He had just gone about making himself feel better the wrong way.

"All right, Butch. I'll help," Isaac relented, standing and adjusting his satchel on his back as Butch's face lit up. "But I'm doing this for your mom, not for you. A couple 'I'm sorry's doesn't make up for all the shit you've done to me and Amata," he added, giving Butch a hard look for a moment.

"S-sure, I don't care why. Just please get her out of there!" Butch said, before turning and starting back the way he'd came. Isaac followed Butch all the way back to the DeLoria "apartment", and ran inside after him. In the room adjacent to the main living area, Isaac could hear the squealing chirps of Radroaches and Ellen DeLoria's cries for her son. Isaac rushed in, the 19-year-old goody-two shoes replacing the cynic in a heartbeat as he saw Ellen being attacked by the insects. He squashed them with little effort, using the police baton and his work boots. After a couple hard swings of the baton, and a few harsh stomps from his boots, Ellen DeLoria was safe. She was curled up in a small ball crying, but she was safe.

As soon as the 'roaches were dead, Butch rushed in the room, a smile lighting up his face as he saw his mom was safe, "We did it! My mom's gonna be okay!"

"I did it," Isaac cut it, looking at Butch with disapproval. "Next time someone you love is in danger, don't let a fear of a few overgrown roaches stop you from saving them. What if I hadn't been here, huh? What if Officer Kendall he killed me or I was already long gone when you came looking!?" he lectured, as Ellen slowly started rocking back and forth, sobbing to herself.

"I- I couldn't... the roaches," Butch tried feebly, only to be cut off by Isaac again.

"Couldn't what!? Save your mom's life!?" Isaac said, angry at Butch now. Isaac had never known his mother, and Butch had been fortunate enough to know both his parents before his father passed and his mom started drinking. Seeing Butch almost letting his mother die enraged him. "Man the fuck up! You're a Tunnel Snake, or so you call yourself! You have a knife, you have a leather jacket, and you're more than three times their fucking size!"

"I- I-... you're right," Butch said, downcast. Isaac watched as a look of guilt settled on Butch's face, as he knelt down and hugged his mother, repeatedly whispering that he was sorry.

"Butch," Isaac said, touching the other teen's shoulder. Butch looked up to see Isaac pulling a stimpak from his satchel. It was a syringe with a small gauge at the top that that showed the internal pressure. Isaac reached over and took Ellen's arm, pulling the sleeve back and finding a vein near her elbow. He stuck her with the needle of the stimpak, and injected the full dose into her system.

"It's a complex blend of painkillers, antibiotics, and enzymes that encourage faster healing," Isaac explained to Butch, who looked confused. Most people in the Vault had never needed to use stimpaks while Isaac's father was around, so it wasn't surprising that Butch didn't know how they worked. "It had some long, really complicated name, but eventually someone just started calling them stimpaks," he told the gang member. As Butch watched, he saw the many small bites from the radroaches begin to stop bleeding and scab over.

"Thanks," Butch said, looking at Isaac with newfound awe. "You know, you're the best friend I've ever had, man," he said.

"Maybe you should've been a nicer guy and you would've had better friends," Isaac said, getting a nod from Butch.

"Yeah, you're probably right," Butch agreed. "Here, I know it isn't much, but I want you to have my Tunnel Snakes jacket," he told Isaac, taking off the leather coat with the ornate snake on the back and handing it to Isaac. "You're leaving, right? From what they taught us in class it can get pretty cold out there, and that jacket's surprisingly warm," he added with a small smile.

"Thanks, Butch," Isaac said with a bit of a smile himself, taking the jacket and putting it in his satchel. "I appreciate it."

With that, Isaac left the DeLoria "apartment" and told them to lock the door so no more roaches could get in. He then headed left and proceeded down the all that let to the other parts of the Vault. He passed the cafeteria or "diner" as they had recently taken to calling it, and bit his lip in sadness as he saw the radroaches eating away at a dead Grandma Taylor. She had been nice to him, even giving him and Amata cookies from time to time out of her own food rations. He said a small prayer for her, one of the many his father had taught him growing up, and continued on.

He took the staircase leading to the Atrium and the clinic, and stopped as he heard a voice yell, "Dammit! More roaches!", followed by the pronouced "whoosh" of Andy the Mr. Handy robot's flamethrower. He turned the corner to see Officer Gomez and Andy battling a decent sized group of the nasty pests. Part of him wanted to run past, leave it be, but the rest of him disagreed. Officer Gomez had been nice to him for years, had taught him the boxing drills that had ended his being bullied, and had been almost like an uncle to him. Isaac drew the police baton and ran forward, swinging and stomping as he helped them destroy the roaches.

When the immediate threat was gone, Officer Gomez looked at Isaac and let out a sigh of relief, "You're lucky it was me who found you, the others won't be so forgiving. You okay?"

"No... not really," Isaac said, glad to be around friendly faces again for a moment as he saw Stanley wave from inside the clinic, "Officer Kendall tried to kill me."

"How did you get away?" Officer Gomez asked, worried but not shocked to hear how the rest of the Security force was acting.

"I didn't... Officer Kendall is dead," Isaac said, not making eye-contact with Officer Gomez.

"I... I see. I'm sorry you had to do that," Officer Gomez said. "Look, Isaac, get the hell out of here. This place is becoming a madhouse. I still can't believe what they did to Jonas... Officer Mack is out of control."

"Thanks, Officer Gomez, I always liked you," Isaac smiled, though it quickly vanished at the mention of Jonas's death.

"You were pretty high up on my favorite people list too," Gomez said, before looking around a bit. "Now get going, and I'll pretend I never saw you," he urged.

"Right, I just have to get something real quick," Isaac agreed, before he ran into the clinic. He went into his dad's office after only saying a passing hello to Stanley, and saw what he was looking for. There, sitting in the corner away from the scattered debris of the rest of his father's office, was a Vault-Tec Bobblehead. He had played with it when he was younger whenever he was in his father's office, and just seeing it brought him a small sense of security. With a quick check around the room, he grabbed the bobblehead and ran back out of the clinic.

"Goodbye, Mr. Gomez, and thanks," Isaac said, as he started away from the clinic.

"Goodbye, Isaac. Go find your dad, if you can," Gomez said, before heading down a hallway to the sound of more roaches getting in.

Isaac kept moving and made it into the Atrium, heading down the hallway into the main room, just in time to see Mary and Tom Holden try and make a run past the security guards. Isaac watched in mute horror as the guards simply gunned down the two, not even giving them a warning. Isaac ducked behind one of the metal support pillars and looked around the main room, trying to think of a plan.

An idea struck him as he saw one of the plastic chairs sitting against the wall. It would be risky, and he'd probably end up shot, but it was worth a try. He crept over to the wall, being as quiet as he could. As soon as he was near the row of chairs against the wall, he grabbed one in each hand. While not heavy, and definitely not dense enough to use to block bullets, they would distract the two officers long enough for Isaac to get close. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he prepared to go into action.

Both chairs were thrown around the corner down the hallway as hard as Isaac could and he ran right after them. He caught the two guards raising their guns to shoot at the chairs, and dove. The year he spent on one of the Vault 101 baseball teams payed off, as he slid on his stomach under the two flying chairs that were pelted with bullets, and came to a semi-stop at the feet of the left side guard. Moving quick, Isaac yanked the man's ankles out from under him.

The sudden confusion of the flying chairs, combined with being unexpectedly thrown off his feet made the guard freeze for just a moment as he hit the ground, and Isaac capitalized. He slammed his left fist into the man's groin, making him drop the 10mm handgun he was holding. Hands scrambled to grab the gun as the second officer realized what was going on, and Isaac managed to get the gun first. He pushed the barrel under the man's chin and pulled the trigger, and the top of the back of the man's head and his security helmet flew off in a spray of gore.

_Officer O'Brian, _Isaac thought, remembering the now-dead officer's name. Unfortunately, the second officer had gotten over his initial shock from seeing his comrade's head ventilated, and now aimed at Isaac. Isaac saw the barrel pointed at him and reacted in desperation, forcefully pulling the dead weight of the deceased Officer O'Brian over himself. He felt the bullets thud into the Kevlar vest O'Brian wore, and then felt the sting as a bullet passed through O'Brian's leg and grazed his own. He let out a cry of pain, to which he heard the second officer laugh.

"Like that, punk?" the officer called, moving in on Isaac. "Don't worry, I'll pay you back for what you did to O'Brian, and then if you're still alive I'll take you to the Overseer." Isaac bit back against the pain as he defiantly tossed the body away with his left arm, the 10mm pistol in his right hand. The second security officer had a look of surprise on his face, only seeing a bit of blood on Isaac's leg, before Isaac emptied the handgun's clip into his visor and head. The first four bullets went wild, hitting the man's bulletproof vest and the top of his helmet, tearing the headgear away. The next four, however, found their mark. Before Isaac pulled the trigger for that fifth bullet, he realized the officer's name: Richards.

When Richards's body slumped to the floor, missing at good portion of the upper half of the head, Isaac slowly crawled out away from the two dead officers and rested his back against the wall. He looked down at the spot where the bullet had grazed his leg, whimpering to himself as he forced his hands to peel back the fabric of his jumpsuit and the tattered skin to examine the wound. It was shallow, having barely even scraped into the muscle, but it _hurt_,

Isaac swung his satchel around his torso, wincing at the unexpected pain to his leg the movement caused, and dug for a stimpak. He found one quickly enough, having shoved all the medical supplies into one padded section inside the satchel, and injected it close to the wound on his leg. He dumped the full dose and sat still for a moment, willing the drugs and healing properties to kick in. Soon, relief washed over the wound and the blood flow slowed to a trickle, barely more than a paper-cut, and a sharp itching began. Isaac reached into his bag again and produced some bandages. He wrapped his leg carefully, making sure to keep the circulation in his leg but still properly bandage the wound.

"Okay, time to see if Dad was right about me being a good assistant," he muttered to himself as he went to stand, and pain shot through the damaged muscle in his leg like a flaming lance. "Fuck!" he howled, sinking back to the ground and sitting there. He had managed to move far enough away from the corpses that the expanding pools of blood didn't reach him, but he felt no joy in this. After a few more minutes, he tried again. The pain was a bit less, down to a sharp ache, and Isaac made his way over to the corpse of Officer Richards. He knelt down, being careful of his leg, and wrenched the gun out of the corpse's hand. He then swiped the extra two magazines of ammo for the gun off Richards's corpse, and repeated the process with the corpse of O'Brian.

Isaac had learned a little about guns from Officer Gomez, back when he and the officer's son Freddie had entertained the idea of being on the security force together, so he knew how to check the parts. Luckily, both guns only required a small screwdriver -something no mechanical engineer would be caught dead without- and he was able to disassemble them back in the main room of the Atrium. He looked over the parts and saw a few damaged pieces on the pistol that had belonged to Richards, but had better quality of the same pieces in O'Brian's handgun. After several minutes of comparing parts, Isaac discarded the more degraded parts and reassembled the remaining pieces back into one, slightly better, handgun.

"Okay, moment of truth," Isaac muttered to himself as he saw a radroach scurry into the room from the staircase that led to the second level. He aimed carefully at the small creature, praying the gun didn't explode in his hand. He squeezed the trigger, and the loud bang of the handgun was followed immediately after by the radroach exploding into pieces. Isaac smiled grimly to himself, glad he could at least repair a weapon in the outside world, if he made it that far.

After almost half an hour since he'd given himself the stimpak injection, he rose up to his feet again. His leg felt much better now, the pain now down to the dull throbbing ache, and he went back to the corpses in the hallway. Feeling horrible while doing it, he stole one of the holsters for the pistol off the dead Richards's body, and carefully strapped it to his right thigh above his leg wound. The gun felt okay in the holster, and he proceeded up the stairs to the second floor of the Atrium. He skirted around whatever radroaches he saw, not wanting to waste ammo on them, and proceeded across the catwalk of the second floor.

"You! This is all your fault! You and that stupid dad of yours! You had to go and mess everything up!" A man yelled as he slammed a fist against his window, glaring at Isaac. Isaac responded simply by flipping him off and continuing. The next room he entered was filled with the computers that helped process and monitor everything in the Vault, and Isaac frowned as he saw a dead man on the ground, wearing one of the utility jumpsuits giving to the engineer crew. He was pulled out of somber observation as yet another security guard entered the room.

"Security Chief Hannon," Isaac said, immedately recognizing the man. After all, the man's son had bullied him for years alongside the rest of the Tunnel Snakes.

The Security Chief didn't say a word, simply drawing his police baton. He rushed at Isaac, but the youth was too tired to fight fair. Isaac snapped up his handgun, and squeezed off three rounds at Hannon's face. The first two rounds shattered his visor, and the third killed him. Isaac moved past him without stopping.

He came up on the detention area that served as the security force's HQ, and he could hear voices coming inside. He stopped at the edge of the window and peered inside...

"I told you, I don't know anything!" Amata said from where she sat in a chair, her father, Overseer Alphonse Almodovar, and Officer Mack -the son of a bitch that killed Jonas- both standing over her.

"Be reasonable, Amata. I don't like doing this anywhere near as much as Officer Mack. I just need you to tell me where your little friend is hiding," the Overseer's voice half-echoed through the glass.

"He's my friend, I was worried about him. What does he have to do with this anyway?" Amata pleaded, tears in her eyes. Isaac felt his rage start to boil as he saw she had a black eye.

"Probably nothing, which is why I need you to tell me where he is so I can talk to him," Alphonse said, Officer Mack moving in with his police baton. Suddenly, Amata jumped back from her seat, pulling the 10mm pistol Isaac had refused before.

"Watch it, sir! She's got a gun!" Officer Mack called, pushing Alphonse back.

"Where did she even get a gun!?" Alphonse demanded.

"Stay away from me! I don't want to shoot you, but I will if I have to. I will, I swear I will!" Amata yelled, backing in between the computer desk in the room and a locker, her gun going back and forth between the Overseer and Officer Mack.

The Overseer bristled at the threat, crossing his arms, "How dare you threaten me! And with my own gun! I'm your father, and you will start treating me with respect! Officer Mack, don't just stand there!"

Officer Mack moved in on Amata, waving his police baton back and forth far to eagerly to want to settle things peacefully, "Don't make me take that gun away from you, girlie. Just hand it over, nice and easy. Now."

"No, get away from me! Get away!" Amata yelled, shooting the gun in fear. Officer Mack crumpled as one of Amata's shots hit his leg, and the next caught him in his throat.

"Oh my god, Amata! What... what have you done..." Alphonse said, raising his hands in helplessness as he backed away from his daughter. Amata ignored him and pushed past, running out the door. She spared Isaac a quick, pleading glance when she caught the murderous look in his eye, before she vanished into the Almodovar "apartment."

Isaac went into the room, and glared down the Overseer. The older man tried to look imposing, crossing his arms and looking down his nose at Isaac. These efforts were all in vain. Isaac was far to angry to ever be scared by this man again.

"I'm hope you're here to turn yourself in, young man. You in a lot of trouble as it is. Don't make things worse for yourself," he told Isaac.

"If you ever, _ever_, lay a hand on Amata again, I'm make you regret it..." Isaac growled, keeping his voice barely above a whisper to keep from screaming.

"I place the good of the Vault above everything, even my own paternal feelings. We mustn't allow sentiment to cloud our judgement!" The Overseer recited, like those few words justified everything. "But I admire your protective instincts. Very well, I promise Amata shall not suffer further because of your actions," he said.

"MY ACTIONS!?" Isaac roared.

"Yes, your actions. If you had any sense, you'd see how dangerous what your father did was. If you really care about Amata, turn over your weapons and surrender," The Overseer demanded.

"My father is no traitor. You're a murderer and a thug," Isaac said, forcing his voice back down.

"Let's let history be the judge of that. If you'd paid attention in Mr. Brotch's class, you'd know that history is invariably decided by the victor," Alphonse said, sounding quite sure of himself. "And I intend to be the victor! You won't survive the night! Guards! Help me!"

"You're precious guards are dead," Isaac said, moving in on Alphonse. "I killed them, every one I've come across. And now, I'm going to kill you," he said, punching Alphonse hard in the face. Even with his leg wound, Isaac was still much more fit than Alphonse Almodovar, and it wasn't much of a fight. Isaac knocked the man down with a strong uppercut, and got on top of him. He began punching the Overseer over and over in the face, intent on beating him mercilessly to death the same way they did Jonas.

But then, a small memory flickered in his head, the memory of Amata at her tenth birthday party, wrapping her arms around her father and telling him she loved him. Amata loved her father, even if he was a twisted, sick man. Isaac slowly got up off of Alphonse, who had already lost consciousness. He walked over to the lockers of the Security HQ and looted the lockers. He stuffed a Kevlar vest into his bag, along with a few extra stimpaks, some extra magazines of 10mm ammo, and a few bottles of purified water.

"I'm not like you, I'm a better person than you," Isaac said, giving Alphonse one last good kick. He left the Security HQ, walking to Amata's apartment. On the way there he saw Jonas's body, and he stopped and said a prayer for his fallen friend. He saw a holotape with a note meant for him, left by his father, in Jonas's hand. He pocketed the note and the holotape, then continued into Amata's apartment. She looked up from the living room table, tears streaming down her face. The gun she had used on Officer Mack sat on the table, and Amata was shivering.

"Did you..."she tried to ask, unable to finish the question.

"No, he's alive," Isaac shook his head. Amata jumped up and wrapped her arms around him, ignoring the blood that splattered both of their jumpsuits from the violence that had occured in the past two hours. He hugged her back, letting her cry into his shoulder for a moment before standing back from her. The look on his face was serious, but full of sadness.

"I have to go," he said. "Do you know the password to your dad's terminal?"

"Ye-yeah," Amata nodded. "Thank you, really. I saw the look on your face and I thought you were gonna kill him," she said, reaching into one of her pockets and giving him the key to the Overseer's office. "The password to the terminal is my name."

"Thanks... and I was going to kill him, untill I remembered that you love him, and you don't deserve losing your father," Isaac said, leaving the apartment as Amata thought on the meaning of his words.

Isaac passed over Jonas's body and went into the Overseer's office. He put the holotap into the small port in his Pip-Boy 3000, and listened to the recording his father left behind. His father apologized for not telling him, figuring Isaac would understand but knowing he might be angry. He said that he had thought long and hard about it, but had decided it would be best for Isaac not to know, to live out a safe life in the Vault. The final words of the recording were "Goodbye, I love you".

Isaac saved the recording to his Pip-boy, and then went to the Overseer's terminal. When asked for a password, he typed in Amata's name. What he found both surprised, and appalled him. The Vault had been opened before, and the Overseer and those before him had been manipulating them all to keep them under their control like little mice. Isaac angrily opened the secret tunnel, and then left the computer.

He proceeded down the tunnels, avoiding the two radroaches that were there. Eventually he found himself in a room with a small panel on the opposite wall. He went to said panel and pushed the "open" button, and the wall next to the panel slid down to reveal the main entrance to the Vault. Isaac entered the room and approached the main panel that controlled the massive door. It took him a moment to figure out how to disable the restrictions on opening the door, and pulled the level.

A mechanical arm descended from the ceiling and attached itself to the giant gear, pulling it back and slowly rotating it away from its frame. A whoosh of outside air came into the room, the smells unfamiliar and somehow enticing. Isaac felt a strange sense of freedom come over him as he watched the door revolve open.

"Oh my god, you actually did it! You opened the Vault!" Isaac spun quickly to see Amata standing there, looking on in awe.

"I couldn't of done it without you," Isaac said, trying to give her a small smile.

"No, you could have. If anyone can survive out there, it's you," Amata said, wiping fresh tears from her eyes.

"Come with me, like we used to talk about when we were kids," Isaac said, praying she would say yes.

"I want to... but I can't. My place is here. The Vault needs me more than you do. I'm the only one who can talk some sense into my father," Amata said, a sad smile on her face. "Listen, if you catch up with your dad. Tell him I'm sorry. For Jonas, my father, everything," she said.

Amata then did the one thing Isaac never expect, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, breaking apart after just a few seconds, "Goodbye," she said with somber tears in her eyes.

"Goodbye," Isaac said, backing away from her. It was then that the door to their left opened, and a pair of security guards ran at them.

"Amata, go back," Isaac said, drawing his handgun."GO!" She looked at him for a moment before running back the way she'd came, going back through the Overseer's tunnel.

Isaac turned to face the security guards. Again he was shocked that so few of the security guards actually had fire arms, but decided he should try to let these guys live. He ran for the exit, jumping over the giant gear treads and landing. The two security guards stopped at the door and turned back, yelling about how it was crazy to head outside. They ran back to the control panel and flipped the switch to close the door. Isaac watched with melancholy as the huge door rolled shut and closed, the Vault sealing in front of him.

* * *

Isaac had spent the past hour staring at the wall, contemplating all that had happened. Part of him had died in that Vault. The innocence that he had lived with up to that point, of happy day after happy day, was shattered. The small voice of reason in the back of his mind wasn't so small anymore, because now it would probably be keeping him alive. He was not the kid he was yesterday, anymore. Now, he was a murderer, a looter, a tactician and a heartbroken fool.

He turned to see sunlight coming through the gaps in the boards that had once been the sturdy door out of the tunnel. He walked up the slope of the tunnel that led to that door, and set his hand upon the ancient nob. He wasn't Isaac Stark the Engineer anymore, now he was just Isaac Stark. The wastes were before him on the other side of this door, wastes he would be forced to wander, alone.

But, he had a mission. He had to find his dad. If that required he went on the long journey before him, so be it. He turned the knob and smiled to himself. His past was behind him, his journey ahead, and in this tunnel between past and future, he had nowhere to go but forward...

* * *

**Okay! That's Chapter One, people! Tell me how I did. I appreciate all non-flame criticism. Did you like it? Hate it?...love it, maybe? I dunno. Leave me a review, please and thank you.**

**Your lovable, demented host, Relks The Disturbed**

**NOW RE-EDITED TO FIX SPELLING AND GRAMMAR ERRORS.**


	2. Chapter 2: Welcome to the Wasteland

**And we're back for Chapter 2, folks! Thanks for all the reviews, favorites, follows and helpful criticism so far! And to answer "collegegirl", you're just gonna have to stick around and find out. ;) And, on to the show!**

**Disclaimer: As always, I do not own Fallout, it is the property of Bethesda Softworks. But if I did, we'd have a damn sprint button.**

* * *

The brightness of the sunlight hit him like a punch in the face. Isaac threw up his hands to shield his eyes, the harsh glare of natural light sending his retinas screaming. He slowly cracked his eyes further open, wincing as the light stung them. He stayed like that for a few moments, until his eyes finally adjusted to the light of the Sun.

The land before him was a wasteland. Everywhere he looked, he saw nothing but desolate land and destruction. Walking to the edge of the small cliff that concealed the door leading to Vault 101, he peered out further over the destroyed land. He could see the remnants of a town off in the distance, buildings broken and skeletal after the nuclear onslaught. Beyond that he saw a line of glimmering metal on the horizon, partially concealed as it sat behind what was probably another cliff. He had a choice to make: The remnants of the town, or the strange metal structure.

"Guess I'll see if anyone's living in what's left of that place," Isaac muttered to himself, before a series of beeps came from his Pip-Boy. He looked at the screen on the device, seeing that a pair of radio stations had appeared. _New Radio Stations Cataloged: Enclave Radio, Galaxy News Radio._ Isaac viewed the two stations, and absently selected Galaxy News Radio.

However, instead of the music or news that Isaac had been expecting, he only got static. Words could almost be made out under the white noise, but Isaac couldn't understand any of it. With a sigh he turned off the radio station and crouched on the hard stone beneath him. He swung his satchel around him and began digging inside it. After a moment he found what he was looking for: the Kevlar 101 Security vest he'd taken back in the Vault.

"If a shot to the leg hurt that bad, I'd hate to find out what one to the chest feels like," Isaac told himself as he took off the satchel and began strapping on the vest. It took him a bit of adjusting to get the protective clothing to rest comfortably on him. He fiddled with a few more straps, making sure he could move well in the new clothing without it moving around, and smiled when he had it settled.

After he'd gotten himself properly outfitted, he began walking down the worn dirt trail that led down the cliff that concealed the Vault. He stopped as he reached the bottom of the cliff, and took in the area around him. He was standing at the edge of an ancient road. Burnt out and rusted cars were scattered here and there on the road, along with the occasional deep pot hole filled with brownish gray water. He approached one of the puddles in curiosity, kneeling down and dipping his hand into it. Immediately he jumped back from the puddle as the Geiger-counter on his Pip-Boy began ticking off the radiation entering his system.

"Great," Isaac sighed to himself, shaking his hand to fling off the remaining water. Sparing the puddle one last glance, he began walking down the ruined road. The remains of the town loomed ahead of him, and he kept his wits about him as he began passing the burned out husks of a few houses. He wasn't overly worried about running into anything right down the road from the Vault, but better safe than sorry.

Isaac came up on what had once been a quick gas station for the many cars of the Pre-War world, sitting at a three way intersection in the road. It was a square structure, with an almost cartoon like rocket sitting on top of it. A crude, weathered sign was stuck into the ground near the base of the thing, reading "Megaton" in sloppy yellow paint. An arrow was painted below "Megaton", pointing to the path to Isaac's right. He remembered reading the name before in the Overseer's files back in the Vault. Supposedly, Megaton was a fairly friendly settlement that had built up in the crater of a defective nuke.

"I bet Dad would've gone there first," Isaac told himself. He was about to begin heading down the right-hand path, when a giggling sound came from behind him. He whirled quickly, seeing two men standing there looking at him. The two were giggling, hence the sound Isaac had heard, and wore strange clothing. It was a awkward mix of pre-war clothes and car parts. The man on the left had an ugly face, a long scar across the width of his face marring his features. The man next to him had a spiked Mohawk haircut, his hair dyed an unnatural green-ish brown. Both were filthy, and Isaac could smell them even from the twenty feet that separated them.

"Lookie who we got here," the man with the scar said, grinning to himself as he brandished a length of lead pipe, "a little kiddie fresh out of a Vault."

"Yup, and look at that bag of his," Mohawk said, giggling as Isaac pushed the bulk of his satched up onto his back again. "Must have a lot of goodies in there. Prob'ly even got some Jet," he grinned, pulling an old meat cleaver.

"Look, I don't know what 'Jet' is, but I don't want any trouble," Isaac said, getting an idea of where this was going. His pistol was at his hip, and he'd have little problem using it if they attacked him.

"Ya hear 'dat? He doesn't want trouble!" Scar guffawed, the two busting up laughing at Isaac's words. As soon as the two composed themselves, then grinned and ran at Isaac. Isaac pulled his pistol and took aim, but the two raiders weren't complete idiots. Both took off in different directions, Scar moving further out to the left as Mohawk ran to the right. Isaac would have to turn away from one to attack the other.

More worried about the knife, as Mohawk was running faster than Scar, Isaac turned to his right as squeezed off two rounds. Both rounds missed Mohawk completely, and the raider cackled at him as he sprinted straight for him. Isaac took a step back, aimed again and squeezed off the trigger two more times. The first round caught Mohawk in his shoulder, making him drop the knife. The second got him in the chest, stopping him in his tracks as he fell to the ground with a groan.

Isaac spun around to try and get Scar as well, but was too slow. Scar's led pipe smacked the gun clean out of Isaac's hands, sending the weapon flying over to the old gas station. Isaac managed to bring his arms up to protect himself a bit from the next swing, grunting as the pipe smacked the same spot Officer Kendall's police baton had hit a few hours prior.

"I'm gonna break you nice and slow, kid," Scar grinned as he pulled back to swing again. Isaac jumped back out of Scar's reach and began circling around the raider. The disfigured man grinned as he turned to keep his eyes on Isaac, feeling invincible. Isaac didn't have time to reach into his bag for the police baton, and Scar was now moving to keep him from getting back to his pistol.

"Oh no ya don't," Scar yelled, lunging at Isaac with the pipe again, a hard downward swing. Isaac dodged to the side, barely avoiding the attack, and swung a strong right hook. The move connected with Scar's jaw, and made him stumble back a few steps. Isaac took the brief chance and ran back towards where Mohawk had fell to the ground. Scar recovered quickly, whatever drugs he'd been taking significantly lessening the effects of Isaac's punch.

"Come on, come on," Isaac whispered to himself as he spotted Mohawk's discarded knife. He could hear Scar's heavy footfalls behind him, and dove to get the blade. Scar jumped after him, not seeing what Isaac was going for. Isaac grabbed the knife as he hit the ground and rolled to the side, the lead pipe thumping into the dirt where his head had just been. He kicked out at Scar's left leg with his own, and managed to trip the raider. Scrambling to his feet, Isaac backed away before Scar could swing at him again.

"Okay, got a weapon, now what?" Isaac thought out loud as Scar got back to his feet. The meat cleaver felt clumsy in Isaac's right hand, and the kitchen knife's size kept him from holding his right arm up in his boxing stance. Scar lunged at him with the pipe yet again, a swiping backhanded swing. Isaac back stepped, years of footwork practice helping him, and then rushed forward before Scar could recover. He stabbed at the raider, plunging the knife into the man's stomach. Isaac's face distorted into a feral snarl as Scar screamed, and he pushed the blade further in, twisting it.

Blood coated his hands and soaked the knife as Isaac pulled back from the dying man, Scar's eyes already going dim as his life blood poured onto the parched earth. Isaac crouched down and checked Scar's pulse to make sure he was dead, then went over to Mohawk. Somehow, the man was still alive, coughing blood as his wounds took their toll.

"Please, help me..." Mohawk gurgled, as he began choking on his own blood. Isaac said nothing, but reached down and pulled Mohawk's head back, stabbing up through the underside of Mohawk's mouth, past the soft palate of the roof of his mouth and drove the blade all the way into the man's brain. Life drained from Mohawk's eyes instantly, and Isaac left the knife in the man's head. He walked wearily over to where his pistol lay on the dirt, and picked it up. He inspected it for damage, and saw that while it had been smacked from his hand, it had not been broken.

"Phew," Isaac sighed as he looked at the two corpses. _That's seven men I've killed now, _Isaac thought to himself as he returned his handgun to its holster. He saw the ruined sign not far from the gas station, the aged words reading "Welcome to Springvale!". Bringing up his Pip-Boy's world map feature, Isaac added Vault 101 and Springvale markers, so as to remember the locations later. Then he turned down the road and began walking towards Megaton.

It took him about fifteen minutes to walk the half mile from the gas station to the settlement, and he stared in shocked awe at the construct. The whole outer wall of the town was built from welded together scrap, from what had once been air planes by the look of it. A huge jet engine was nestled into the frame, almost directly above where an old Protectron robot stood. It wore a weathered cowboy hat, and had a small star welded to its chest that read "Deputy".

"Greetings, traveler! Welcome to Megaton, friendliest town around," the robot said, in a broken yet cheerful monotone. Near the front of the building a man sat, looking dejected and sick. He stared at the ground, his eyes seeming to have trouble focusing.

"Are you okay?" Isaac asked, walking closer to the man but keep his right hand on the grip of his gun. The two before had taught him a lesson about strangers.

The man stared at him for a moment before recognition showed in his eyes, and he shook his head, "No. I need water. Clean water. Not this horrible irradiated shit."

"Have you actually been drinking that?" Isaac asked, flabbergasted by the idea that anyone would willingly drink the dirty, radioactive water in the area.

"I haven't had much choice, alright!" the man snapped, glaring at Isaac before his expression softened again.

"I didn't mean to offend," Isaac said, crouching next to the man. "The name's Isaac, Isaac Stark," he said, offering his right hand to shake.

The man stared at Isaac's extended hand for a moment, before cautiously shaking it in return, "Micky. Just Micky."

"Alright, Micky," Isaac said, standing back up and swinging his satchel around, "I've got something to help." He produced a bottle of purified water from the Vault. He extended it to Micky, who looked at the bottle like it was a gift from God.

"Y-You're sure? I don't have anything to give you in return," Micky said, thinking Isaac was just taunting him.

"I'm sure. You need it more than I do," Isaac smiled. Micky gratefully took the bottle and opened it, taking a slow, careful sip. The water beggar's face lit up as he tasted the clean H2O, and he smiled at Isaac.

"Thanks. You saved my life," the man said, smiling as he held his bottle of water.

"Not a problem," Isaac smiled back, "If I have any extra later, I'll be sure to swing back by," he told Micky, before walking up to the imposing front of Megaton.

"State your business!" a voice called from above Isaac. He looked up, trying to see the owner of the voice, but couldn't see anyone past the old metals of the walls.

"I'm looking for my father! I think he might be in the town," Isaac called up, feeling anxious. _'Not as friendly as the old files claim, eh, Isaac?' _the little survivalist voice in his brain taunted.

"You don't look like a raider, but watch it. Everyone inside is packing, so don't start trouble," the voice warned, followed by a loud clank. The big engine began spinning and whirring, and two huge sheets of metal slowly pulled up and back to reveal a large door.

"Head on in, partner," the Protectron told him. Isaac looked at the robot for a moment, then proceeded to the door. Isaac pushed the door inward, and though it was large and metal, it must have been supported by many hinges, for it swung open with ease. He passed through the doorway, and into the town of Megaton.

The first thing Isaac noticed inside the town was the steep slope leading down into the crater. The megaton class nuclear bomb, the town namesake, sat in a pool of green-tinted water in the center of the town. Around the bomb the town had been constructed, out of what appeared to be whatever random scrap people had been able to get their hands on. Isaac gave a small smile as he watched people going about their lives.

_Even with the world broken, humanity abides, _Isaac thought as he walked down the path that led straight down to the bomb. Not ten steps from the door, a large black man wearing a leather duster and a cowboy hat intercepted him. His face was covered in a thick beard, and his eyes appraised Isaac coldly. He saw the bloodstains on Isaac's jumpsuit, the dried blood still on Isaac's hands from the dead raider, and the tired, almost hollow look in Isaac's eyes of someone filled with regret.

"Who's blood, stranger?" the man asked, Isaac spotting the stock of a rifle of some sort peeking over his shoulder.

"Two creeps out there," Isaac said, jerking his left thumb back towards the door.

"Hopefully no one I know," the man said, towering over Isaac. Though Isaac had grown to 5' 7", this man was easily six feet tall.

"Not unless you know two dirty druggies, one with a weird mohawk and the other with a nasty scar across his face," Isaac responded, tensing up in case he need run. To his great relief, the man smiled and laughed when he heard that.

"Raiders. Good to hear you put 'em down," the large man said, extending his hand to shake. Isaac saw light glare off something on the man's chest, and noticed a gold star that read "Sheriff".

"Lucas Simms, town sheriff and occasionally mayor. Mind if I get your name?" Lucas asked, his hand still extended.

"Isaac Stark," Isaac replied, shaking the sheriff's hand. Lucas had a strong grip, almost painfully so, but Isaac returned as good as he could.

"Nice name," Lucas said, getting an awkward nod from Isaac. "Look, boy, I've seen the look on your face before. You've done some stuff you aren't proud of," Lucas said, getting Isaac's attention. Instantly his anxiety was back, and his fight or flight instinct was kicking in.

"Y-yeah..." Isaac said, tensing to run. A gentle hand on his shoulder form Lucas calmed him.

"You seem a little stressed and confused, so I'll be straight with you," Lucas said, forcing Isaac to keep eye contact, "I'm the law in this town, fuck up and answer to me. But, you don't look like a bad kid, so you shouldn't have anything to worry about," he smiled. Isaac almost deflated on his feet, and smiled back

"Thanks, Sheriff," he nodded. "This is a nice town," he added, looking at the buildings around them.

"We try to keep it that way," Lucas nods, before looking back to Isaac. "Now what brings you to town? That jumpsuit's in too good a condition to have been out of its Vault long."

"I'm looking for my dad," Isaac said. "Maybe you've seen him? Middle-aged, short gray hair. Might've been wearing a lab coat over a jumpsuit like mine?"

"Sorry, son, can't say I have," Lucas shook his head. "But, Colin Moriarty might have seen him. That snake keeps tabs on everything in this town. Seen the saloon across the crater up top?" he said, pointing at a building on the opposite edge of the crater.

"Yeah, I see it," Isaac nodded, a small glimmer of hope rising up.

"That's Moriarty's place. If anyone in town has an idea of where your dad is, it's him," Lucas told him.

"Thanks," Isaac said, before his eyes drifted back down to the bomb at the heart of the crater again.

"Aren't you worried about that thing?" he asked, pointed at the bomb with his gloved left hand.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't," Lucas nodded. "But the majority of the town doesn't even know it's still kicking, and the folks down at the Church of Atom worship the damn thing."

"People actually worship an atomic bomb!?" Isaac exclaimed, finding absolutely no logic in what was just said.

"I know, I know, it's crazy. But they help out around town and don't hurt anyone, so who am I to judge," Lucas shrugged. "Why ask, anyhow?"

"Well, sir," Isaac said, feeling uncertain now that he actually thought about what he was proposing, "I could disarm it for you."

"I don't know..." Lucas began, only to have Isaac cut him off.

"Sir, with all due respect you are literally sitting on a time bomb," he said. He had to admit to himself, even though he'd only met Lucas just now, and hadn't even been in the town an hour, he liked the place.

"Weapons-grade nuclear matter is dangerous and unstable. All it would take is the proper push, a jolt of sufficient electricity, for example, and the town would be a smoldering ruin," Isaac told the sheriff.

"So you want to disarm it? Just like that?" the sheriff asked skeptically.

"Well, if you wanted to pay me for it, I wouldn't mind," Isaac grinned sheepishly. Money makes the world go round, as someone once said. If he was going to get by in the outside world, he'd have to get some sooner or later.

"I can give you one hundred caps," Lucas said, the idea finally appealing to him.

"Caps? As in like bottle caps?" Isaac asked, confused.

"The very ones. We use it as money out here because there are plenty around, and they're pretty hard to fabricate," Lucas explained. _One hundred doesn't sound too bad... but maybe you should try for more..._

"Five hundred," Isaac countered, locking eyes with the sheriff.

"That's ridiculous! I can give you one-hundred," Lucas said, looking sternly at Isaac. However, the young engineer was not going to be deterred. He was going to need plenty of money to find his dad.

"Two-fifty."

"Boy... you are really trying my patience," Lucas warned him. "I'll give you one final offer, seeing as how you are guaranteeing the bomb will never be a problem again if you actually do accomplish this. I'll give you one hundred caps, and the deed to one of the houses here in town," he offered.

"A house?" Isaac said, surprised by the offer. "You're sure?"

"Kid, if you can guarantee this town'll be safe from that bomb, you'll have earned it," Simms told him with a smile.

"Sheriff, you've got yourself a deal," Isaac grinned, "I'll be back in just a few minutes," he told Lucas, proceeding to jog down the path leading to the bomb.

"Kid, I hope you know what you're doing," Lucas muttered to himself. He liked the kid, though he didn't know why, so hopefully his instincts about people hadn't gone to shit in the last few years.

Isaac took off his satchel as he reached the edge of the radioactive pool of water that held the bomb, sitting it on the dry dirt. Since the satchel had basically been his tool bag before he was forced to flee the Vault, it still had a fair number of his old tools inside it. He extracted a small adjustable wrench, a pair of wire cutters, and his trusty flat-head screwdriver. Along with the tools he pulled out a small bowl to hold all the little pieces he'd be taking off and putting back, a trick he'd picked up from Stanley. With his tools in hand, he proceeded into the pool.

The Pip-Boy's Geiger-counter immediately began ticking as Isaac waded through the shallow pool, but he did his best to ignore it. He traced his fingers along the paneling of the bomb, looking for the little differences that would reveal the access panel. Finding it a moment later, he went to work. First he used his screwdriver and wrench to remove all the screws, nuts, and washers for the outer panel, depositing them in his parts bowl. Next he stuffed his tools in his pockets for a second, pulling off the outer panel and setting it in the dirty water around his feet.

By now a small throng of people had gathered around the bomb, murmuring to themselves as they watched Isaac begin removing the pieces holding the secondary panel in place. A woman with striking red hair tied in a bun watched the scene from the balcony above the clinic, while a man dressed in a white suit watched from outside of Moriarty's bar. Once Isaac had the second panel off, he peered in at the guts of the weapon.

In the Vault, there had not been any teachers for how to maintain the nuclear reactor that powered the shelter. So, when Isaac had been given assignment to the engineering track, his only teachers had been the myriad amount of textbooks Vault had kept on everything nuclear. He'd studied reactors, bombs, the process of preparing uranium for use in nuclear weapons, all of it. It seemed every ounce of knowledge on the subject that had been printed had been in the Vault, and over the course of three years Isaac had read it all.

That being said, he was fairly confident when he pulled several wires away from the others and neatly snipped them with the wire cutters. For a moment, nothing happened, and then Isaac smiled as a small display on the inner circuit-board changed from "armed" to "unarmed". Now that the bomb was disarmed, Isaac proceeded to snip several more wires, all key to sending any sort of electrical pulse to the warhead, rendering it totally inert. Once he was finished he calmly replaced both in secondary and outer panels, putting all the little securing parts back in place.

He exited the pool with a grin, only to be tackled by a man with balding silver hair and a scraggly beard, wearing gray clothing, "YOU HAVE DEFILED THE ALTAR OF ATOM!" Isaac dropped his tools in shock as the man took him off his feet, back into the murky water. There, the man tried to push Isaac's head under the polluted pool. Isaac fought back, kicking his feet and trying to push the man off him. His efforts were in vain, however, as the man was sitting on his chest and bearing the brunt of his weight on Isaac.

"Enough!" came the voice of Lucas Simms, booming over the shocked muttering of the crowd, accompanied by the sharp report of a gunshot. The man on top of Isaac looked at Lucas, seeing the larger man holding a smoking .44 magnum in his hand. He slowly rose from the boy, exiting the pool and walking towards Lucas. Isaac pulled himself out of the water, spluttering and coughing as he tried to get the water out of his lungs and replace it with sweet oxygen.

"Sheriff, he desecrated the sacred avatar of Atom!" the man yelled, pointing accusingly at Isaac.

"Cromwell, you need to calm down," Simms told him coolly. "The boy acted on my request."

"YOU RECRUITED HIM TO DEFILE OUR SACRED RELIC!?" Cromwell howled, barely holding himself back from launching at Simms as well.

"Confessor, that bomb was a threat to my town. I have no problem with you worshiping it or following your religion, however, it needed to be dealt with," Lucas told the livid priest calmly, though his voice carried the weight of control and authority. "No matter what you believe, that thing was made as a weapon to kill, and I won't have my town destroyed just for the sake of some old wires."

"Um, sir," Isaac said as he crawled out of the water, finally finishing collecting his tools out of the murky pool. Confessor Cromwell spun on his feet and glared at the young man, hatred in his eyes.

"What could you possibly want to say, defiler! You, who has spat in the face of our great lord Atom," Cromwell seethed.

"Well, sir," Isaac said, trying to remain diplomatic and set aside the fact this man had just tried to drown him, "I just made it so the bomb wouldn't ever explode. It's still radioactive, and from what I understand, isn't that radioactivity the sign of your god?"

Cromwell stared at Isaac in mute shock, surprised that this boy who had just reached into the heart of his holy relic and twisted it, was actually trying to make amends in a way. True, Atom's glory was in the radioactivity and the division it caused. True, the bomb still existed, so maybe there was a chance of Division in the time to come. Reluctantly, Confessor Cromwell nodded.

"That is true, boy," he admitted. "Atom's glory is not in the physical, but in the division of each and every one of us to the core. I will forgive this transgression, so long as you do not tamper with our precious relic again," he relented.

"And?" Lucas said, looming behind Cromwell with a stern look on his face.

"And I am sorry for attempting to kill you," Cromwell said, reaching into his clothes. "It is not the way of our faith to revel in the materials of this world, when the coming Division will give birth to trillions of worlds, but please take this as an apology," the priest said, extending a bag of fifty bottle-caps to Isaac.

"Thank you, Confessor," Isaac said, taking the bag from him. The priest of the Church of Atom nodded tiredly, then walked back towards his precious bomb, stooping in the water and weeping at the loss it meant for his church. Isaac looked at Simms for a bit of guidance, and the sheriff watched the Confessor for a moment before returning his gaze to Isaac.

"I'm sorry about that, boy," Simms apologized. "I hadn't thought Cromwell would react so violently," he admitted.

"It's alright, sir," Isaac said as he turned and retrieved his satchel, putting it across his back again. "Just glad to be of service."

"And a damned good service it was. It's a big relief not to have to worry about that thing anymore," Lucas said with a sigh of relief. He pulled back his duster and holstered his handgun, then produced a bag of one hundred bottle caps and small plastic tube.

"This is the promised payment and the deed to the house up there above the Brass Lantern," Lucas explained, indicating the bar directly to his left, and the house up above on the edge of the crater.

"Thank you," Isaac said, as he took the items. "Thank you for giving me a place to call home."

"We're happy to have you," Simms assured him, clapping him on the shoulder. "Now, why do you go and get settled in, hmm?"

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Isaac agreed. "Thanks again, Sheriff," he added, beginning to head up the path next to the Brass Lantern that led to his home.

"No, son, thank you," Simms said to himself as he watched the boy walk away.

* * *

Isaac found the place easily enough, and wearily withdrew the key to his new home. He unlocked the door, and proceeded inside. The building was roughly furnished, he saw. A set of lockers was placed directly to the left of the door, with a second set mirroring it across the room. Against the left-hand wall was something that delighted Isaac: A collection stand for Vault-Tec Bobble-heads. He smiled and walked over to it, reaching into his satchel and removing the small Medicine Bobble-head he'd picked up leaving the Vault. He looked at the inscription on the bottom of it, reading "The smart man knows a bandage only hides his wounds." Isaac contemplated that for a moment, then set the Bobble-head on one of the small platforms of the collector's stand.

The familiar sound of several small jets reached Isaac's ears, and he turned to see a Mr. Handy robot floating down the stairs from the second floor of the house. Isaac couldn't help but smile when he saw the robot, memories of talking with Stanley and Andy coming back to him. The machine floated over to him, centering its middle "eye" on Isaac.

"Delighted to meet you, sir," it said, speaking with a slight British accent, "I am Wadsworth, your new personal robo-butler."

"A pleasure to meet you, Wadsworth," Isaac replied, smiling at the pleasantness of Wadsworth's pre-programmed voice. "Could you give me the layout of my home please?"

"Certainly, sir," Wadsworth replied eagerly. "We are on the first floor. It contains the two sets of lockers to your left and right, and the Vault-Tec Bobble-head Collector's Stand, which you have already located. At the back of this main room is a series of shelves, with a refrigerator unit and sink in the back corner. Upstairs there is the central catwalk, which serves as the ceiling above us now, along with two rooms. The first is somewhat small and currently rather bare, containing only a set of shelves and my charging apparatus. The second is your bedroom, sir, containing a desk and office chair, a stack of filing cabinets, and your bed," the mechanical servant reported.

"Very good," Isaac nodded, noting the layout in his mind. "Wadsworth, are you the docking charged variant of Mr. Handy, or do you also run off of batteries?"

"I am a prototype model built shortly before the devastation your people refer to as the 'Great War', sir. I am capable of running on fission batteries which compliment my core battery, charging myself at my docking station, and also capable of replenishing the charge of my central battery with a solar panel concealed in the roof of my main chassis, if given access to sufficient sunlight," Wadsworth explained.

"Excellent," Isaac said, pleased to know that he wouldn't be constantly drawing from the town's power to keep his butler going, but neither would he have to scavenge for fission batteries incessantly.

"One more thing..." Isaac said, trailing off as he began storing the various items in his satchel in the two sets of lockers. He kept his weapons, ammo, and spare magazines for his pistol in the locker directly next to the door, while he stored his extra Vault jumpsuits in the other locker. Before putting the last of the suits away, he stripped off the Kevlar vest and placed it in the locker, changing into a clean jumpsuit and set the dirty one aside to wash later.

"Could I please have something to drink?" he asked Wadsworth, finding himself rather parched.

"Certainly, sir," the robot replied courteously. He drifted to the kitchen and picked up a clean glass with his claw-tipped appendage, then a small hose extended from under a panel in his main chassis, filling the glass with clean, clear water.

"Thank you," Isaac said, taking the glass and sipping it. Though not cold as he had been used to in the Vault, the water was slightly cool, and felt wonderful on his parched throat. "Wadsworth, I think I shall be taking a nap," he informed the servant, checking his Pip-boy to see the time was currently only 1:00pm in the afternoon, "Please wake me at 4 o' clock," he told the robot.

"As you wish, sir," Wadsworth replied, the central eye descending and raising again in an imitation of bowing. Isaac smiled at the machine's attempts at human behavior, and went upstairs. He had taken his 10mm pistol with him, not wanting to leave all his weapons downstairs in case someone tried to break in. Setting the pistol on the desk, he laid down on the bare mattress of his bed. It was old, and somewhat lumpy, but with as tired as Isaac was it felt like heaven.

_When I wake up... I'll go find Dad..._ were Isaac's last thoughts before he faded into an exhausted sleep.

* * *

**And there's chapter 2! Not quite as long as the pilot, but I also didn't have to paint the picture of him fighting a platoon of security guards this time. I decided to take up on the advice from your reviews, and tried to change up the dialogue a bit and throw in a few new twists. **

**As for the disarming of the bomb, I actually do not know how the mechanisms work(for obvious reasons as I'm not a nuclear engineer and Homeland Security would be up my ass if I looked up the detonation mechanism of a nuke) so I just kind of winged it. Hope I didn't make it seem too easy.**

**And with Wadsworth's whole power-supply thing, I figured that he probably had to charge somehow, and there are a bit of electronics scattered about when you first enter the house in Megaton, so I went with him having an apparatus in the spare room. The solar power thing came from the similar idea that we never actually seem him charging, so I figured he just caught some sun with the little holes in the walls.**

**Well, that's it for now. As always, please leave a review. **

**Your host, Relks The Disturbed.**


	3. Chapter 3: Nightmares and Odd-Jobs

**So, I need to apologize for my sudden absence I was in the process of writing this chapter when my computer brought up some notifications of the malicious nature. Following that I attempted to repair my baby, and turns out my baby's been mind raped. Yup, my whole system is currently being hacked by a "mike painintheass", so I'm stuck working from my phone. If the quality is lessened, I apologize. But, as I have gotten such wonderful reviews from my readers, I shall press on.**

**To my reviewers who have fanfiction accounts, I believe I have responded to you personally. If not, I shall try to in the future. **

**To my anon reviewers, here are your replies: Reviewer: I appreciate the compliments, and I promise shenanigans to abound later on. Thank you for your review, and I hope you keep reading.**

**To Max: Your review was flattering, to say the least. And in my youth I had entertained the idea of being a published author, but unfortunately all my ideas for stories fell through. So fanfics! Thank you for your review.**

**To Guest: I'm glad I rate so highly with you. I mean that. After several years out of the writing scene, I was worried about how well I'd do. Thank you for your review.**

**And now, on with the show! This Chapter is Rated M, as will this story following this chapter.**

* * *

_Isaac was being chased... He sprinted through the halls of Vault 101, running for his life. Behind him, where he dared not to look, came the great roar. He sharply turned a corner and almost slipped. Sparing a look at his surroundings for half a second, he saw blood everywhere. He kept running._

_The roar grew louder, great tumbling thuds accompanying it as in closed in on Isaac. He ran through a doorway and shut it behind him, pressing the lock button on the control. Then he turned and kept running. He started hearing voices, calling out to him from behind the closed doors of the apartments he sprinted past._

_"Why did you do this, Isaac!?"_

_"This is all your fault! You ruined everything!"_

_"You're in a lot of trouble, young man!"_

_"STAY AWAY FROM ME, STAY AWAY!"_

_Isaac stumbled to a stop at the door to his father's office, pushing the open button. His dad would know what to do. His dad always knew what to do. Only, when the door opened, his father wasn't there. Panic gripped him, as he heard the great roar and the rumbling just down the hall._

_He ran further, sprinting through the Atrium and heading for the stairs. Voices called from the hallways to the left, and Isaac paled as he saw Tom and Mary Holden dragging themselves into the main room. Both were shot to pieces, Mary's leg barely attached at the thigh. Where the upper left part of Tom's head would have been, there was only a gaping cavity, showing brain matter as blood ran into the room from the hallway._

_"Why did you do this to us!?" they called, dragging their destroyed bodies with broken limbs._

_Isaac screamed as he ran, sprinting across the Atrium's upper flood. As soon as he was across the upper floor, the great roar was right behind. He pulled a pistol he hadn't realized he'd had and turned, pulling the trigger. But the gun didn't work, it simply turned to dust right before his eyes. _

_The great roar was upon him. It wasn't any physical beast, but a shadow. It crushed him, sapping the air from his lungs as it beat him mercilessly. Isaac managed to crack his eyes open, seeing the great golden 101 bearing down on him, before the shadow began taking shape. But it wasn't one shape, but seven, all horribly disfigured in their wounds._

_Officer Kendall with his smashed in face, cackling as he beat Isaac with a baseball bat. Officer O'Brian and Officer Richards, both with what had once been their heads mashed into security helmets, stabbed and slapped him with pieces of a pistol. Security Chief Hannon, with the bullet hole clean between his eyes, and Officer Mack, somehow standing on only one leg as the other was devastated at the kneecap and blood gushing from a crater where his throat had been, were beating him with bent police batons. The two raiders, Scar with his guts hanging out of his stomach, and Mohawk with the kitchen knife still through his skull, smacked and slammed him with lead pipes..._

_He could hear Amata's voice, crying and far away..._

_Then it was his father's voice... "Your Mother died because of you...Goodbye, I hate you..."_

* * *

Isaac jolted up in his bed, screaming. Tears had been running freely down his face, and his whole body was soaked in a cold sweat. He was in his bedroom, in his new house in Megaton, he reminded himself. That logic didn't stop the sobs and shakes that wracked his body.

"A dream... it was just a dream," he muttered to himself, curling up in a ball on the two hundred year old mattress as he tried to calm down. Tears still ran from his eyes.

"Sir, is everything alright?" came the robo-British call of Wadsworth from the first floor.

"F-Fine, Wadsworth," Isaac called down, trying to keep his voice from cracking. "I'm fine..." he muttered again to himself. He lay there, curled up in the fetal position, until he finally managed to get himself under control. He slowly got out of bed, wiping the last of the tears from his eyes. Holstering his 10mm pistol, he went downstairs.

"Are you quite sure you are alright, sir?" Wadsworth asked as Isaac stepped down from the stairs onto the first floor. "It's barely even 3:00pm. Didn't you specify to be awoken at 4pm?"

"Yes, Wadsworth, I did. Disregard previous wake-up command," Isaac instructed as he wearily went to the sink in the back of the large room. He turned the faucet on, straight cold water, and splashed his face repeatedly. Both to wash away the exhaustion that still hung on him, and the stains of tears on his face. Though he'd only been here a day, Isaac had a pretty good idea of what happened to cry-babies in the wastes.

"As you wish, sir," Wadsworth replied. "Alarm set for 4pm terminated."

"Thank you, Wadsworth," Isaac said, opening the fridge lodged in the corner. He frowned as he realized it wasn't powered. He opened it to find a small stock of highly preserved pre-war food. He sighed and grabbed a can of Cram. Grabbing a fork off the shelf by the fridge, he popped open the can. It still looked like what he had assumed it did two hundred years ago: A rectangular mass of slightly soft pink meat. He speared his fork into the meat, separating a forkful and eating it.

It wasn't good. It was bad. The meat had a strange twang to it and was extremely salty. Isaac barely managed not to gag and swallowed it. He coughed as the sodium dried his throat, the bite of food stopping halfway down.

"Wadsworth...water," Isaac croaked. Wadsworth readily supplied the water, filling a glass. Isaac took it and drank a quarter of the glass in a single gulp, forcing the meat down to his stomach. He winced at the ache the large gulp of food and water made its way to his stomach.

"Might I suggest cooking it first, sir? My data suggests it does wonders for the flavor," Wadsworth supplied, an air of humor in the robotic tones. Apparently whomever had recorded for Wadsworth had given enough to leave the robot with a sufficient database of dialogue for the butler to fabricate his own, even adding in sarcasm.

"You couldn't have said that before I ate that!?" Isaac said, exasperated. His "butler" had let him doing that knowing full-well it would taste horrible.

"Apologies, sir. I thought your Vault upbringing would have supplied you with the knowledge," Wadsworth replied. "If you would like, I could use my system's flamethrower at a minimal capacity to cook it."

"I would appreciate that, thank you." Isaac nodded. Isaac dumped the mass of pink meat onto one of the pre-war ceramic plates that sat on the shelf. '_I'm really going to have to go through and properly organize all this, or give Wadsworth a sub-routine to,' _he thought to himself before presenting the plate to Wadsworth.

The robot-butler took it with his claw-handed arm, and held it in place as he angled his flamethrower towards the plate. The flame was kept low, like a blow-torch, and passed over the meat twice. After the two passes, the formerly pink meat was darkened to a subdued red. Wadsworth held the plate for a moment, waiting for his sensors to determine that the plate was back down to a human friendly temperature.

"There you are, sir," the robot said, presenting the food back to Isaac when the plate had cooled. Isaac took it, eyeing Wadsworth cautiously as he forked another bite of food. He slowly ate the bite, finding the taste much more appeasing. It still had a strange aftertaste, but you could only expect so much from two hundred year old food.

"Thank you, Wadsworth. Please resume your former duties," he told the butler, who wordlessly went back to the minor cleaning he had been doing before Isaac had awoken. Isaac leaned against the wall, eating the warm meal and occasionally taking a sip of water. When he'd finished the cram and rinsed the plate in his sink. He then finished his glass of cold water and rinsed it as well, placing the glass back on the shelf.

"Wadsworth, is there anywhere I can buy some new things for my home?" He asked.

"I believe Moira Brown at Craterside Supply would be able to sell you such items," Wadsworth replied as he continued cleaning. "It might also provide you the opportunity to sell some of your excess items," he offered, meaning the extra Vault suits.

"A good idea," Isaac agreed. He went to the locker closest to the "kitchen", and retrieved his satchel from where he'd left it on the floor. Opening the locker, he stuffed the extra Vault suits into the bag. He held the Kevlar vest and contemplated it. It was a bit obvious to be wearing out and about, almost advertisement. He took it upstairs and laid it out on his desk, and slowly took it apart into two separate pieces. The part that had extended down in front of his groin he discarded, having separated it from the primary vest without damaging it. Then, he unzipped the front of his suit and put the vest on over his undershirt. That done, he zipped the jumpsuit back up and grinned. He looked like he was just wearing the jumpsuit, but that vest would stop a shot that would kill him normally.

"I'll be back later," he told Wadsworth, grabbing a few extra magazines of 10mm ammo before he left.

Once outside, he realized he didn't know where Craterside Supply was, and decided he'd go ask the Sheriff. Taking the left turn around the corner that left him facing the crater, he felt foolish as he saw the building set above the clinic. "Craterside Supply" was messily drawn in large letters on the face of the building.

"Rest well, young Stark?" A deep voice called from being Isaac. The young Vault Dweller spun on his feet and and stopped himself just as his right hand landed on the grip of his pistol. There was a small, two person table that Isaac had barely paid attention to when he first went to his home. In one of the two Pre-war chairs sat a man in a white suit wearing sunglasses, a dark hat sitting atop his head. He had an unopened bottle of scotch and two glasses in front if him.

"I did," Isaac replied, still feeling nervous around this man. "You obviously know me. Who are you?"

"First, join me for a drink," the man motioned with his left hand, indicating the booze and glasses. Isaac cautiously sat across from the man.

"There, that wasn't so bad right?" The man asked, opening the bottle and pouring them each a drink. "My name is Mr. Burke, and you have made me very unhappy." Isaac tensed as he heard the '_click' _of the hammer of a pistol being pulled back from under the table.

Isaac tried to keep from squirming under Mr. Burke's gaze, but knowing there was a pistol pointing at him under the table didn't help. He reached for the glass of scotch and drained it of its contents in one gulp. The alcohol burned his throat, and immediately a sense of warmth began to spread through him.

"And how did I do that, Mr. Burke?" Isaac asked the man, a grin on his face.

"Quite the ballsy one, aren't you?" Mr. Burke laughed, picking up his own glass with his visible hand and taking a sip. "Maybe this can end in your favor after all. You see, certain people of interest find this...town, to be an eyesore. That bomb down there, the one you rendered useless, was their solution to the eyesore. These people, as well as myself, are very displeased with what you did."

"So you wanted to kill dozens of people, because you didn't like how the town looked?" Isaac asked evenly, his urge to attack this man greatly subdued by the gun aimed at him.

"Precisely," Burke nodded. "Now, I am prepared to speak on your behalf to avoid certain... Unpleasantness, if you do a little job for me."

"Whatever it is, no," Isaac said sternly. Burke glared at him and Isaac glared right back.

"Pity," Burke said, a muffled gunshot following his words. Isaac felt like he'd been punched in the gut by Mike Tyson, and fell out of the chair. He curled into a ball, knowing the vest had stopped the round but still playing possum.

Burke leaned down to whisper in his ear, "Get up now and you die. We all saw the Kevlar vest you wore before. Don't worry though, Mr. Stark, you'll be hearing from me again very soon." Isaac remained still, hearing Burke's footsteps get farther and farther large door of Megaton opened and closed before he chanced getting up.

"Not even a day out here and I've already pissed off a bunch of psychotic narcissists," Isaac groaned as he got to his feet, "Perfect." He looked down to survey the damage from the bullet. A neat little hole had been punched through the fabric of his jumpsuit, the projectile crushed into a small pellet in the weave of the vest. Isaac plucked the small hunk of metal from the Kevlar, and frowned before tossing it away.

"And now that's gonna ache all day," he muttered to himself as he resumed his original journey to Craterside Supply. He knew he should be more worried about Burke. The smart thing to do would probably be to go catch Burke not far from town and end him then and there, which is precisely why he wasn't going to try that. Burke was obviously a clever man, and following him out into the wasteland would only serve to get Isaac ambushed and killed.

"Hopefully I can get something decent for this stuff," Isaac muttered to himself as he reached the door to the shop. He turned the knob and proceeded in. Inside was dusty, dark, and smelt strongly of chemicals. A woman with bright red hair, not the traditional copper but flat out _red_, stood behind a counter to his right. A man in dark leather armor sat leaning against the wall to his left, next to a doorway with stairs on the other side. The man gave him a quick once over, Isaac doing the same and spotting the rifle stock peeking from the man's back, before the two nodded to each other.

"Oh, hi there!" the red head piped up cheerily. Her voice had a subtle accent that Isaac couldn't place, and she wore what looked like an old factory suit. Her crimson hair was pulled back into a messy bun, and she scratched her neck as she looked over Isaac.

"Hello," Isaac responded, assuming that this was the Moira Brown that Wadsworth had mentioned.

"So you're the boy from the Vault all the chatter has been about," Moira said, again all bubble and glee. "I saw you down by the bomb earlier. You must have a lot of experience with nuclear devices to have known how to deactivate it like that," she commented, and Isaac could swear she was looking at him like a kid in a candy store.

"Yeah... I was part of the engineering crew back in the Vault," Isaac replied, feeling uncomfortable under her gaze.

"Wow, an engineer, huh? Glad to meet another tinkerer," Moira smiled, offering her right hand to shake over the counter. Isaac returned the handshake and shifted uneasily from foot to foot.

"Um... is there something you wanted to ask me?" Isaac asked, seeing the look in Moira's eye.

"Is it that obvious?" Moira asked, getting a nod from the young man. "Well, you see, I've been working on this book. Or, trying to anyway. You'd say the wasteland is a dangerous place, right?"

"Considering I was barely outside an hour and got attacked and nearly killed by two drug addicts, I'd say so, yeah," Isaac responded, wondering where this conversation was going.

"Exactly! So I thought: Wouldn't it be great if there was a book to give everyone a better idea of how to survive out there. Like a Wasteland Survival Guide!" Moira explained, finally getting to the point. Isaac thought about what she said, and got a pretty good idea of where this was going.

"So... what does that have to do with me?" Isaac asked.

"Well... My last assistant had a bit of an...accident," Moira admitted, scratching the back of her head. "And I need a new one."

"And you want that person to be me," Isaac finished for her.

"That pretty much sums it up," Moira nodded. "I'll pay you."

"Pay? What sort of pay?" Isaac asked. It sounded incredibly dangerous, and Moira didn't really come across as being the safest "scientist".

"Caps, food, medicine, ammo, some fun gadgets here and there," Moira answered, her eyes locked on Isaac.

"And what would I be doing, exactly?" Isaac asked, still not feeling comfortable with this, even with the pay.

"Just running some tests for me, checking places for food and meds, studying the local wildlife," Moira supplied. In actuality what she wanted him to do was much more dangerous than it sounded, but he didn't need to know that right off the bat, did he?

"Alright, I suppose I can help," Isaac asked, finally taking his eyes off Moira and seeing something behind her that really caught his interest. "Where'd you get the Vault Jumpsuit?"

"Oh, that old thing?" Moira asked as she glanced over her shoulder at the Armored 101 Jumpsuit on the wall behind her. "A man sneaked out of that Vault about... ten or so years ago. He stumbled in here looking lost, and I offered to armor up his jumpsuit for some extra protection. He never came back for it, though. Poor fella probably died out there."

"Ten years ago..." Isaac muttered. Ten years ago one of the Vault mechanic's had died, maimed by radroaches. But, with the way the Overseer reacted when Isaac's dad left, the mechanic probably managed to get out of the Vault somehow and the Overseer had kept it under wraps.

"Actually, I'll give it to you, if you'll give a foreword for the book?" Moira offered, seeing Isaac eyeing the old thing.

"On what?" Isaac asked, his eyes still locked onto the armored suit.

"Vault life, of course," Moira chirped.

"It was pretty great, truth be told. Had a decent job, a father who loved me, a best friend who in the end turned out to be more than a friend, and a trio of idiots to help me work off some stress once in a while," Isaac admitted, the tear-streaked face of Amata right after she had kissed him flashing in his mind. "But then everything changed when the Vault door opened."

"That'll do great for a foreword," Moira nodded, scribbling down Isaac's words as quickly as she could. As soon as she was done, she turned and pulled down the armored jumpsuit, presenting it to Isaac.

"Go ahead, try it on," Moira told him, Isaac blushing furiously.

"I.. I mea... I can't... not here..." he sputtered, getting a laugh from Moira.

"Not _right here_, silly," Moira laughed. "In there," she said, indicating the room behind the gruff looking man leaning on the wall. Isaac nodded quickly a few times and went into the room, seeing a sliding door attached to the inside wall. He slid the door shut and stripped down. A tarnished mirror stood in the corner opposite the stairs, cracked but somehow mostly intact after the nuclear devastation. He inspected himself in the mirror after he was down to just his underwear. He wasn't extremely fit, but he had a fair amount of muscle on him, and while he had some fat on him, there wasn't much.

"Probably gonna lose that soon," he quipped to himself in the mirror, before pulling on the armored jumpsuit. It took him a minute to figure out all the extra straps that came with the armored bits, but he soon got them all tightened down properly. He looked himself over in the mirror and smiled. The armor made him look just a bit bulkier, and gave him a bit more sense of security. Speaking of security, he had decided to keep his modified security vest, and had pulled the armored suit on over it. Once he had retied the laces of his boots and tossed his satchel back over his shoulders, he slid open the door.

"My, don't you look dashing!" Moira cooed, looking at Isaac in the new attire. "Perfect for me new assistant!"

"About that, before I get started on any of that for you, would you mind taking a look at some of this stuff?" Isaac asked, emptying the contents of his satchel, minus he medical supplies and ammo, onto the counter. Inside were the extra Vault-suits he had grabbed as he departed, along with a few stacks of pre-war money he had found in the Security Office of Vault 101, the red ball-cap Stanley had given him for his tenth birthday, and Butch's Tunnel Snake jacket.

"Well, well, Vault-Tec souvenirs, eh?" Moira mumbled as she looked over everything. "I hate to tell you... um, wow, I can't believe I never caught your name."

"Isaac, Isaac Stark," Isaac replied, as he realized he'd never given it.

"Well, Isaac, I hate to tell you, but I can only give you about fifty caps for all of this," Moira said, frowning at the clothing and few stacks of old-world money.

"Only fifty?" Isaac asked, surprised. He had thought the pre-war money would have been worth at least that a stack. After all, each stack was almost five-hundred pre-war dollars!

"Yup, sorry. Pre-war money is kind of valuable, to certain people, but I'll have to look for a buyer for any of these Vault-suits," Moira explained to him. "And if I can't find a buyer, I can't make any money with them."

"How about fifty-five?" Isaac offered, trying to get more.

"Isaac, please don't beg," Moira told him, looking stern for the first time since Isaac had met the woman. "I'm a scientist and tinkerer first, but even I have to keep out for my business. The best I could do for you is thirty caps and one of the hunting rifles I have on stock."

"And toss in 20 rounds of ammo for it?" Isaac supplied hopefully.

"Fine, but only because you're my assistant," Moira submitted, shaking her head.

"Awesome," Isaac grinned. Moira went over to one of the many lockers in the building and retrieved one of the better condition hunting rifles she had, along with a box of twenty .32 caliber rounds of ammunition. She returned and set the items on the counter, then reached under the counter. She opened the safe she kept all her shop's money in, and counted out thirty caps, before dumping them all into a bag. When she stood back up, she pushed the bag of caps, rifle, and ammo to Isaac.

"Thank you very much," Isaac said as he stuffed the ammo and caps into his satchel, looking at the rifle.

"Something the matter? Do you know how to use it?" Moira asked, seeing the confused look on his face.

"No, I know how to use it. I've seen them in some of the old films in the Vault," Isaac shook his head. "What I don't know is how I'm supposed to carry it."

"Oh! Silly me, I forgot to explain," Moira laughed, scratching the back of her head in a gesture Isaac was quickly learning was a habit of nervousness. "Inside the strap across your back, I've sewn in a small clip magnet. Just hold the gun so that the handle is over your right shoulder blade, and the magnet should clip onto your gun. Then all you have to do is turn it twenty degrees counter-clockwise and the clip will release your gun and reset back to its original position."

"That's... that's genius," Isaac said, realizing the amount of effort Moira must have put into making the mechanism.

"Oh, well, thanks," Moira said, scratching at her head again. "Glad you appreciate it."

"You're welcome," Isaac said. "I have to get going, to go see some Moriarty guy at the saloon, but I'll be back to help with the guide soon, I promise," he said, leaving with a wave.

"Okay, don't forget!" Moira called after him.

* * *

Isaac took a breath of fresh air once he stepped outside of Craterside Supply. _Moira was...odd, but at least she had been helpful and friendly, _Isaac thought to himself. He got his bearings from the platform that Craterside Supply was situated on, and saw that Moriarty's Saloon was just one level up and to his right. Isaac took a path that went off to the left of Craterside Supply and circled back around, finding it leading him onto the catwalk that supported Moriarty's Saloon and a few other buildings. Isaac peered at the large letters above the door, then back at the door itself. Lucas Simms had said that Moriarty hadn't been the nicest person around, but if the Sheriff allowed him to stay in town he couldn't have been too terrible.

"Best head on in, Isaac old boy," Isaac muttered to himself, twisting the knob and going inside.

Inside the bar was a bit musty. A large backwards L-shaped bar took up a majority of the space in the main room, with stools tracing it. There was a smaller room off to the right with a few tables and chairs in it, a table and chair directly to the right of the door, and another to the left. A staircase ran up along the left wall, leading to the second floor of the building. Patrons milled about here and there, swigging from bottles of beer, trading shots of the harsher stuff, or just shooting the shit someplace a bit more bearable than the outdoor heat.

"Come on! Work damn it!" A gravelly voice yelled from the bar, catching Isaac's attention. He looked over, and froze in shock at what appeared to be a walking corpse repeatedly smacking an old radio with his fist. The corpse wore dirty clothing that had to be pre-war, with a scraggly tuft of brown hair all that remained on his head. Across the bar from the corpse-man stood a voluptuous red head, her hair cut in a short, yet attractive, style.

"Quit it, Gob. I told you it's not the radio," the woman told the corpse, who was apparently named Gob. "The Enclave station comes in fine, Galaxy News has just been shit lately."

"Arrgh, work, damn it!" Gob tried one last time, smacking the radio before giving up. "Guess you're right, Nova."

"Of course I'm right, Gob," Nova laughed, before she caught Isaac in the corner of her eye. She smirked, and proceeded to saunter over to him. Isaac had trouble figuring out where to look. The top of her shirt was open to reveal generous cleavage, and the pants she wore fit tight, alluding to the curves underneath.

"Don't think I've seen you before, handsome," Nova practically purred as she reached Isaac.

"C-can't say that you have, I'm new in town," Isaac managed, forcing himself to keep his eyes on Nova's face as she leaned forward slightly while talking, trying to get him to stare at her cleavage.

"What brings you here? Need a little 'creature comforts'?" she asked with a smirk. It was then Isaac figured out what was going on: Nova was a prostitute.

"N-No, I'm fine, thanks," Isaac said, waving the idea away with his bare right hand. "I do have a question, though."

"Hmmm, what's that?" Nova asked with a raised eyebrow and a slight upturn of her plush lips. Isaac had to admit, she was very attractive.

"What's wrong with the guy behind the bar?" Isaac asked quietly, indicating Gob with a glance.

"Oh you mean Gob? Oh you can relax. He's a Ghoul," Nova chuckled.

"What's a Ghoul?" Isaac said, bewildered.

"You're kidding right?" Nova responded, shocked. A slow shake of Isaac's head proved otherwise.

"I'm just out of a Vault, so I don't know much about the outside world, yet." Isaac explained.

"Well, from what I understand, Ghouls are people -keep that in mind, they are people- who changed after absorbing crazy amounts of radiation. Instead of it killing them, they change into Ghouls," Nova said, hoping the young man caught on.

"So there's an unknown X-factor in their genome which causes them to mutate into a form more suitable for the radioactive wastes," Isaac nodded, half his sentence sounding like gibberish to Nova.

"Yeah.. that," she nodded apprehensively.

"Alright now that we've covered that," Isaac began, "I have one more question."

"Shoot, sugar," Nova said with a small smirk.

"I'm looking for my dad. About my height, gray hair, lab coat over a Vault-suit?" Isaac supplied.

"Oh yeah, I've seen a guy like that! He came in earlier this morning and talked to Moriarty for awhile, then just left," Nova recapped, smiling to herself. "Shame too, he was a looker."

"Can you tell me where he went?" Isaac asked, finally having a lead.

"Sorry, no can do, hon," Nova shook her head. "Moriarty'd slap me stupid if he found out I was giving out information."

Isaac drooped slightly at her words, an almost imperceptible sag of the shoulders, then he got an idea. _She came on pretty strong, and called me handsome, maybe I can play that off... Always worked on Suzie Mack._

"Listen, honey, I really need to find my dad," Isaac said, replacing his former shy tone with one of confidence. Nova actually blushed at the change.

"I already told you I can't..." Nova started, looking unsure.

"If you scratch my back, I scratch yours. Maybe after I find out where my dad went, you and I could spend some... personal time together," Isaac whispered in her ear, seeing her shiver.

"Oh I'd love to spend some time with you, too," Nova grinned, the confident seductress back. "Look, Colin will probably have my head for this, but here," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck to make it look she was kissing him.

She whispered a word into his ear, then explained, "It's the password to Colin's terminal. It's in the back of the place. If you can sneak back there you might be able to find something on your dad." She gave him an actual peck on the cheek, then backed up.

"What in Sam-Hell are ya doin', Nova!" A man yelled as he walked out from behind the bar. He was a little taller than Isaac, with graying hair swept back from his face and a scruffy beard on his chin, his voice ringing with an strange accent. _Some island in Europe..._ Isaac remembered from a movie he'd seen in his youth in the Vault.

"Nothing, Colin, I was just-" Nova tried to explain, before Colin Moriarty slapped her across the face. It wasn't hard enough to really hurt the prostitute, but it was loud and probably stung a bit. Nova held back a glare as a red mark appeared on her otherwise flawless alabaster skin where Colin's hand had hit.

"I don' give two shits what ye think ye were doing! Unless he's a payin' costumer, he don't get jack!" Colin told her, looking from her to Isaac.

"I was just getting ready to pay her," Isaac interjected, reaching into the pouch in his satchel he kept his caps and passing twenty to Nova. "Didn't need the entirety of her comforts, just a couple kisses, is all."

"Fine, whatever," Colin said, taking the caps out of Nova's hand and beginning to walk away.

"Wait, you're Colin Moriarty, right?" Isaac said, stepping after the Irishman.

"Indeed I am. Owner and proprietor of Moriarty's Saloon," Colin said, looking at Isaac out of the corner of his eye as the young man followed him to the edge of the bar.

"I'm looking for my father, and word around town is you've seen him," Isaac said, stepping in Colin's way. _If I can't get him to tell me I can always use Nova's password._

"My god it's you, the wee-baby boy all grown up!" Colin said wide eyed, looking at Isaac in new light.

"What are you talking about?" Isaac said, "I've never met you before."

"Oh, that's where you're wrong, boy. I met ye years ago, back when you was a pup with nary a tit to suckle," Colin corrected. "Right before you and your pop vanished into the Vault."

"Moriarty, I was born in the Vault," Isaac interjected.

"Is that what he told ye?" Colin said incredulously, shaking his head. "Had his reasons I suppose. No lad, you and dear old Dad are from out here, with the rest of us."

"But.. Dad told me..." Isaac said, shocked at what he was hearing. '_Dad never told you he was leaving. Is it really that strange to think he was hiding more from you?'_ that little survivalist voice muttered in the back of my mind.

"Yes, yes, boyo, I know," Colin said, placing a hand on Isaac's shoulder. "Look, I'll be straight with you. James was here, and now he's not. And yeah, I know where he went."

"Then tell me," Isaac said, jumping at the information.

"See, boyo, tha's where ye and I have a problem," Colin waggled a finger. "That'd be information, and information's a commodity just the same as booze, food and tail."

"So you want payment," Isaac said, catching on.

"Right-o! You really are a chip off the old block," Colin laughed. "I'll tell you where he went for one-hundred caps."

"That's ridiculous," Isaac countered. "Fifty."

"One-hundred, lad," Colin said, his previously somewhat-cheery eyes turning to ice. "I don't bargain. I give you an offer, you take or you don't."

"I don't have the caps to give, Moriarty," Isaac lied. He did, but if his father had gotten far, he was going to need that money to catch him. Besides, if he could convince Nova to change her mind, maybe he could do something similar with Moriarty.

"Then I guess we have no business, lad," Colin replied, turning to walk back behind the bar.

"Wait! There has to be something else I can do to earn the info," Isaac said, immediately wishing he hadn't. Everyone had told him that Moriarty was a shady character, and it felt like Isaac had just made a deal with the Devil.

"Now that you mention it, I do have a job you could do," Colin nodded to himself. "Follow me, boyo." Moriarty led Isaac behind the bar and into a room adjacent to the main one. Inside was a bunk, some shelving and a computer terminal rigged to a small generator on a wall.

"Now ye see, Nova ain't me first pleasure girl," Colin explained after he shut the door. "I had a number before her, but her most recent predecessor is me main concern right now."

"And why would that be?" Isaac said, anxious.

"Ye see, lad, the lass's name was Silver. Little bitch got herself hooked on Jet. Then up out a nowhere, she takes off with a bountiful sum of me caps and all the chems she can get her hands on," Colin explained.

"But you said she was your prostitute before Nova, wouldn't that mean she's been gone awhile?" Isaac asked.

"No such thing, boyo, no such thing," Colin waved off. "Both girls were working here at the same time, just got Silver into my.. employ, first is all."

"So you want me to go hunt down Silver and get your caps back?" Isaac asked. That wasn't so bad.

"No, I want you to get me caps back, and I want ye to kill the bitch," Colin corrected, horror reflecting in Isaac's eyes.

"But why can't I just," Isaac began, before Colin raised a hand for him to stop.

"Because, lad, a message needs to be sent," the Irishman told him. "I can't have people thinkin' they can just rip me off and bolt, then get a slap on the wrist. It'd be bad for me reputation. No, ye have to kill 'er."

Moriarty could see Isaac chewing his words for a moment, before the former Vault Dweller finally nodded, "I'm going to hate myself for this, but all right."

"Good on ya, boy," Moriarty grinned, shaking Isaac's hand. "Last I was able to find, the little bitch had holed herself up in an old house in Springvale, taking any chems she can get."

"Alright... I'll be back then, but you'd better keep your end of the bargain," Isaac said before he left the back room, shutting the door behind him.

"I'm really gonna hate myself for this," Isaac muttered to himself, before he felt something dry and scratchy latch onto his arm. He spun around quickly to punch whatever had grabbed him, catching himself just in time to realize it was Gob.

"Smoothskin, what were you talking with Moriarty about?" the Ghoul asked him.

"Just trying to find my father," Isaac said, gently prying his way out of Gob's grip.

"Bullshit," Gob said in a low voice. "I heard you two talking, and I ain't as dumb as half these smoothskins think I am. He wants you to go find Silver, doesn't he?"

"Y-yeah," Isaac nodded, keeping his voice down as well.

"Listen, smoothskin, Silver was a pretty decent girl," Gob told him. "If you can find a way to not do what Moriarty wants, I'd appreciate it."

"You mean you know he wan-" Isaac almost asked, before a look from Gob cut him off.

"Please, don't hurt me, sir!" Gob faked as Moriarty's door started opening, making Isaac grab his shoulder. '_Come on, smoothskin, get with it,' _his eyes seemed to say.

Isaac got the point as Moriarty came back into the main room of the bar, "Not until you tell me what 'smoothskin' is supposed to mean, you damn Ghoul!"

"Whoa, whoa, easy now!" Moriarty said, pushing between Isaac and Gob. "Just because ya don't like me answer about yer pop don't mean you can rough up me workers."

"Sorry," Isaac said, as he saw Moriarty's left hand rest on a sawed-off shotgun under the counter. "Won't happen again."

"Yer damn right it won't. Now quit wasting time and get on tha job I gave ye," Moriarty said, glaring at Isaac for a moment before going into the back room again. Isaac quickly got back on the outside of the bar, and pretended to be ordering a drink to talk to Gob again.

"Thanks for not punching me," Gob told him quietly, with what Isaac guessed was the Ghoul equivalent of a smile.

"No problem," Isaac said, glad he hadn't as well.

"You mean that? You ain't gonna yell at me for grabbin' you? Mock me for bein' a Ghoul? Call me a 'zombie'?" Gob said, looking very surprised.

"No... I hadn't planned on it," Isaac said, feeling confused.

"Smoothskin, you're all right," Gob smiled again, leaning over the bar. "Most of the bastards around here are always giving me shit just cause I look like a corpse. Tell you what, if you can do what we discussed, I can give you a discount here."

"Really?" Isaac said, surprised by Gob's offer.

"Moriarty'd have my head if he found out, but between you treating me alright, and if you can do that thing I asked you about," Gob said, intentionally being vague, "then I'd be willing to risk it."

"Thanks, Gob," Isaac said, shaking the Ghoul's hand.

"No problem, friend," Gob grinned. "Now you better get going, before Moriarty comes out here and slaps us both around." Isaac nodded at his statement, getting up to leave. He caught Nova glaring at him slightly out of the corner of her eye, and he gave her a little grin and a wink to let her know it was an act. The red-headed whore smirked, and gave a subtle nod. With that, Isaac left Moriarty's Saloon.

* * *

"Back to Springvale, then," Isaac said to himself as he exited Megaton, bringing up the World Map on his Pip-Boy. He selected the Springvale icon, and set an active marker there. With that done, Isaac left the small overhang that protected the door to Megaton and ventured back out into the Wasteland.

"Onto my first adventure," Isaac muttered to himself, walking down the worn trail that led back down towards the intersection to Springvale...

* * *

**And that's in for now, children! I thought about going into the Springvale encounters as well with this, but then I'd be pushing 10k words this chapter and it'd just feel too mashed in. This chapter was pretty dull, mostly just set-up here. Hopefully this wasn't too bad. Send me your reviews, please and thank you! Also: MY BABY IS FIXED! Updates will be coming consistently yet again.**

**And for those of you who might be wondering by now, the "great-roar" in Isaac's dream was the roar made by the machinery that roll the Vault door out of the way.**

**Thanks for reading, chiiidren, this is Relks The Disturbed, and you're reading Fallout: The Journey Forward. A new and insane Capitol Wasteland, for you!**


	4. Chapter 4: Taking Things As They Go

**Disclaimer: I do know own Fallout. All rights to the Fallout franchise belong to Bethesda Softworks.**

* * *

Isaac managed to make it back to the gas-station intersection without incident. This did not, however, stop him from keeping wary. He had his new hunting rifle drawn, his right hand holding the stock with his index-finger out of the trigger guard while his left hand cradled the end of the wooden frame just before it gave way to steel barrel. The rifle wasn't in the greatest shape, the wood of the frame dented here and there, but it was sturdy enough to last Isaac a good while.

"That's weird," Isaac muttered to himself as he realized the bodies of the two raiders he'd killed this morning were gone. Fresh tracks in the dirt and sand were the answer to Isaac's pondering. While he had no way to know what made the tracks, he knew enough to figure out that some wildlife in the area must've dragged off the bodies to eat. He just hoped that two raider corpses were enough to keep it full for awhile.

"Okay, Moriarty said she was holed-up in an old pre-war house," Isaac said, as he looked at the damaged remnants of four houses to his left. He'd passed them coming down the road from the Vault and hadn't thought a second about it, but now he looked at them in new light. They didn't hold Silver, because what protection did skeletal remains of a house give? But, but they might hold something worth scavenging. If there were raiders in the area, they might even have left something behind Isaac could use or sell.

Isaac decided to search the houses first, before moving on into Springvale itself. He started with the house closest to him. Unfortunately, if there had been anything of value there it had long since been looted. He moved on to the one further up the road to the Vault after that, finding an old fission battery and a conductor in a half buried metal box. Encouraged by the find, he crossed the street to the third of the four houses. This one was the most desolate, and was more a tiny forest of burnt support beams than a house.

Finding nothing of value in the third house, he proceeded to the forth. It was here that he hit the jackpot. Partially hidden under a decaying mattress was an old safe. Isaac inspected it for a moment then tried the turn-handle, finding it locked. He frowned to himself, and dug inside his satchel.

"Come on... where did I put them..." Isaac muttered to himself, grinning when he found what he had been looking for. On the few and far between days off he had been able to get in the Vault, he had spent most of them with Amata. The last time they had spent time together before the events of Isaac's escape, Amata had forgotten a handful of bobby pins in Isaac's apartment. Isaac had put them in his bag with the intent on returning them the next time he got to see Amata, but then his father had left the Vault.

"Glad I forgot to give them back," Isaac grinned as he crouched down in front of the safe. It had been years, but as a child he had found an old Tumblers Today magazine in the Vault library. Even back then Isaac had loved learning how things worked, and through consistent study of that magazine had become at somewhat skilled amateur at picking locks. Now that random little skill would come in handy.

Isaac tried for five minutes to get the lock open, using an opened bobby pin to fiddle with the tumblers while he used his small screwdriver to apply torque to the lock. After those first five minutes, he broke his first bobby pin. He frowned at this and checked how many he had left, counting four. Grabbing another he started where he had felt the most give with the lock and adjusted the bobby pin just so, before applying some twist with his screwdriver again. His reward was an audible '_click' _from the safe.

Isaac grinned and put the bobby pins and screwdriver away, turning the handle on the safe's door and opening it. Inside was an assortment of pill bottles, syringes, injectors and inhaler masks. All of which had some kind of drug inside or connected to. Isaac read the labels, raising an eyebrow at the strange names written over the ancient names.

"Buffout? Med-X? Psycho?" Isaac muttered to himself. "The hell is this stuff?" Then Isaac saw the labels on the inhaler-masks: Jet.

_"Prob'ly even got some Jet..." _The raider with a mohawk's words echoed in Isaac's mind.

"These're drugs," Isaac reasoned, looking at the bottles and labels again. Sure enough, under the sloppy labeling of the word 'Med-X', Isaac could see the faded word 'Morphine'. So, all these pills were either old-world drugs or newer varients. Those had to be worth money to someone.

"Nice find, nice find," Isaac said to himself in a sing-song voice as he deposited all the syringes and vials into the padded section of his satchel, stuffing the bottles of buffout into the bulk area.

"HEY SOME SHIT FOUND OUR STASH!" A yell came from Isaac's right. He jerked his head to see a raider standing in a gaping hole in the wall, glaring at him with a pool cue held in her hands. Her head was almost completely bare of hair except for two mohawk rows of spikes going from her temples to the back of her head. Isaac jumped to his feet, twisting the stock of the rifle on his back like Moira had said and feeling the weapon come loose.

"I'm gonna tear you apart!" the raider-woman shouted, sprinted over the uneven footing of the pre-war home. Isaac shouldered the rifle and set the bolt, chambering a round. He took half a second to aim and pulled the trigger. The kick from the rifle wasn't too bad, about the same as his pistol, and his shot flew true. The little .32 caliber bullet found its home in the raider-woman's left eye, and bits and pieces of brain and bone went flying out the back of her head. Isaac quickly exited the house, and scanned his surroundings.

Coming up the road from further into Springvale were six raiders. Two males were armed with lead pipes, another male with a pool cue, one female with a kitchen knife, and two more females with N99 10mm pistols like the one on Isaac's hip. Isaac sighted the two with guns first, lining up his first shot and pulling the trigger. The raider didn't even bother dodging as the bullet flew by her head a full foot off target.

"Fuck! C'mon, c'mon," Isaac muttered as he worked the bolt of the rifle and chambered another round. He aimed again at the first raider with a gun and fired. This time he made the shot, catching the raider in the chest near her heart. Isaac worked the bolt again and aimed at the first of raiders armed with melee weapons, now only ten feet away. He caught the raider in the throat with the round, and registered as the corpse hit the floor that he had been carrying a pipe. Isaac turned back to the second raider with a gun, only to catch a 10mm round to the chest.

The impact of the bullet caught Isaac by surprise, and he lost his aim on the target. It took him a full three seconds to register that the bullet hadn't penetrated because of his vest, and he aimed again. This time he caught the pool-cue wielding raider in the chest, in a place Isaac hoped punctured the man's left lung. Another bullet whizzed by Isaac's head, and he found himself crouched down to the ground as he worked the bolt once more. He aimed at the next raider, only twenty feet away, and paled as he heard an empty '_click' _instead of a gunshot.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, forgot to reload," Isaac cursed himself, dropping the rifle and drawing his handgun. He lined up the shot again and fired two rounds, both of the 10mm bullets burying themselves in the raider's chest. There went the second pipe-wielder. A third bullet whizzed by to Isaac's left, and he crouch-ran behind the wall of the house for some protection. He peeked out and popped off another two rounds, one at the kitchen knife-raider, and another at the last gunner.

The knife wielder caught the round in the shoulder and kept coming, while the gunner ducked behind the bulk of an old mailbox. Isaac cursed and fired two more rounds at the raider with the knife, smirking with some satisfaction as the knife wielder dropped to the ground like a bag of bricks.

"Six shots left," Isaac told himself. "Just the gunner." Isaac crept to the other end of the wall he was hiding behind and peered out. He saw the raider advancing on where he had been before, and he popped off three shots at her. The first two were misses, but the third was a lucky shot that caught the raider in the left temple. As the last raider fell, Isaac let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and scanned the area again.

"No one back down that road," he muttered as he checked where the six raiders had just come from, noting to himself that he sun had started going down. "No one behind me. Guess that's it for now." He walked cautiously back to where he'd left his hunting rifle and picked the weapon back up. Then he went back behind the relative safety of the old house wall and dug in his satchel, fetching the .32 caliber ammo from inside.

"Moira I might love you," Isaac muttered to himself as he saw that instead of the standard box of individual rounds most bullets came in, the ammo Moira had given him was already set up in five-shot stripper-clips. He smiled as he slid one into his hunting rifle and worked the bolt, chambering a fresh round into the barrel. With half a thought, he flicked the safety on on the hunting rifle. That done, he set the remaining three clips in three of the pouches on the leather strap across his chest, to make them easy to access. He also grabbed some loose rounds of 10mm ammo and refilled the magazine already in his handgun, along with put two extra magazines into tight loops on the leather belt of his armored jumpsuit.

"Note to self: Remember to do whatever Moira wants for that damn book, because this armored suit will probably save my life before too long," Isaac told himself as he slid the boxes of ammunition back into his pack. Now with a few extra magazines and stripper-clips in easy reach, he proceeded to go check the raiders' corpses. Most of them just had the filthy clothes on their backs and the weapons they'd been holding, but the two with the pistols also had a few magazines of 10mm ammo between them. Isaac stored the two extra handguns and the extra ammo in his satchel, making sure to take the magazines out of the guns and clear the chambers so he didn't shoot himself in the back from inside his bag.

"Okay. Scored some drugs, shot some druggies, now to find the ex-prostitute," Isaac said to himself sarcastically. _Not where you imagined yourself at nineteen back when you took the G.O.A.T., eh, Isaac? _he mentally quipped to himself.

Isaac shrugged off the self-cynicism and continued down the road to Springvale. He had his pistol held in his right hand, pointing forwards at his hip. If need be he could snap it up and aim properly, and if panicked he could shoot from the hip. Isaac chose his pistol instead of his rifle primarily because of the long arm's smaller ammunition capacity.

He made it into the main cluster of burned out homes that was now Springvale, seeing the school off in the distance. He spent a good thirty minutes searching about the ruined houses. Most were boarded up so extensively he couldn't even get to the door knob, much less open any doors. Finally, after a full forty-five minutes of searching and trying to get doors open, he found a home that looked like it have been recently re-inhabited.

"Boards still on the front door," Isaac frowned to himself as he reached the front of the house. Then, faintly, the sound of music reached his eyes from inside the walls. He leaned against the door and placed his left ear on it, barely hearing a acoustical version of _Yankee Doodle Dandy _coming from inside.

"If the front's still locked, maybe the back then," he said to himself, creeping around the side of the house. He made sure to avoid the windows, so as not to spook anyone inside if the place did turn out to be inhabited. He found the overhang that concealed the back door, probably once the roof of a back porch, and tried the knob. It was unlocked.

Isaac opened the door and entered the home carefully, scanning the first room he entered repeatedly. No one was there. The room was the remains of a kitchen, and Isaac could see a pair of Jet inhalers sitting by the sink. He walked over and found them empty, the bags limp. The sound of the hammer of a gun clicking back behind him drew his attention.

"Hands up, asshole," a woman's voice said from behind him. "Slow." Isaac did as he was commanded and slowly lifted his hands, letting his pistol hang loosely from his finger. He turned around carefully, to see the woman aiming a small revolver at him. She had long blonde hair, blue eyes and sightly tanned skin. A beige hooded jacket and pale khaki's covered her frame, and dark circles under her eyes tarnished what would have otherwise been a pretty face. She was twitchy, her body shaking ever so slightly as she stared Isaac down.

"I'm here to-" Isaac began, before a gunshot into the counter to his right cut him off.

"I know why you're here, Waster," the woman said, pulling the hammer back again with her thumb. "Moriarty sent you. I'm not gonna let you kill me."

"So you are Silver, then?" Isaac asked, locking eyes with her.

"Yeah, I am," Silver replied, steadying her hands and lining up the end of her revolver's barrel with Isaac's forehead. "And I don't give a shit what Moriarty said I did, I'm not dying here."

"Hey, hey! I'm not gonna kill you!" Isaac yelled, backing away from the barrel of the gun instinctively "I only agreed to what Moriarty asked because he has information on my father!"

"Yeah, right," Silver said, her hands shaking slightly as she kept the gun aimed at him.

"Gob talked to me before I left!" Isaac told the former whore. "He asked me not to kill you, and I honestly hadn't planned on it to begin with. I have an idea of how to fake it."

"What? Gob talked to you... Well," Silver said, as she gradually lowered the revolver from Isaac's face. "...let's hear it then."

"Okay," Isaac said, relaxing a bit and holstering his pistol. "Moriarty told me to get his caps back and to kill you," he explained.

"Bastard's still obsessed with his damn caps," Silver shook her head. "Honestly, it's not like he doesn't already have plenty already."

"Well, what if I take a portion of the caps you have left back, and say you already spent all the rest," He suggested. "Then we go splash some blood from the raiders I just killed up the road onto your shirt and take that back to him as proof that you're dead."

"That's... actually a really good idea," Silver said with surprise. "Give me a second to go change." She left the kitchen and went to the bedroom of the small house she was hiding in, returning a few minutes later wearing a simple tank top instead of the sweatshirt. Thankfully she had stayed fully dressed otherwise.. She held out the dirty sweat-shirt for Isaac to take.

"Thanks," Isaac said, as she handed the piece of clothing.

"This too," Silver said as she pulled a bag full of three hundred bottlecaps out from a drawer.

"Damn, how much did you take from him?" Isaac asked as he stuffed the bag of caps into his satchel.

"About two thousand," Silver admitted. "You should probably go now. You're too clean to have been out of the Vault long, and you don't want to be out after dark if you can help it."

"Will do. Tomorrow you should probably find a new place to hide, because Moriarty knows about this place," Isaac told her. After getting a nod from the ex-prostitute, Isaac left the house and drew his pistol again.

"Shit!" Isaac swore as he looked at the horizon to see the sun setting. "What time is it?" he muttered to himself, looking at the clock on his Pip-Boy. The digital read-out told him it was 6:02pm.

"Fuck, need to hurry back," Isaac said to himself as he began a fast walking pace in the direction of Megaton.

As he walked he kept getting the feeling he was being watched, and more than once thought he heard something following him. He reached the old gas-station again after several minutes, and finally his worries were confirmed: More raiders had been trying to stealthily follow him. They had apparently changed their minds, as a group of ten raiders all armed with various melee weapons came running out from behind the four destroyed houses.

"Oh shit!" Isaac yelped, turning to the direction of Megaton and breaking out into a full sprint.

He could hear the raiders behind him as he ran, their howls and screams only pushing him to run harder. Megaton was in sight when he heard footfalls directly behind him and half-turned as he ran. A raider was only a few feet away, wielding a combat knife and giggling like a lunatic. Isaac grabbed for his pistol and managed to snap a shot from it in the raider's direction, clipping the raider's thigh.

The man stumbled for half a second, and Isaac didn't even break stride as he kept running. It did not take long for the wounded raider to get over the bullet hole in his leg, and he and the other nine were in hot pursuit yet again. Isaac cursed repeatedly to himself as he saw Megaton was now only three hundred yards away.

"SNIPER GUY! HEEEEELLLLPP!" Isaac yelled at the top of his lungs. He didn't know the name of the sniper that sat up above the Megaton wall, but he hoped he was a good shot. His wishes were answered when a small flash and a bang came from top of Megaton's front wall, and a raider behind him dropped dead.

"WARNING! WARNING! UNAUTHORIZED TRESPASSERS! DEADLY FORCE AUTHORIZED!" Deputy Weld's mechanical voice screeched, and Isaac smiled as a beam of red light shot past him and struck a raider in the face.

As Isaac reached the edge of the wall, he spun and drew his handgun once more. By now there were only seven raiders left, and Isaac began taking aim and opening fire. Between the skilled sniper on the wall, Deputy Weld's auto-targeting, and Isaac's quickly-improving skill as a gunman, the remaining raiders did not last long. Isaac smirked in grim satisfaction as the last raider fell, a bullet from Isaac's N99 having punctured where his heart should be.

"Thanks for the assist!" Isaac called up to the sniper, as he walked up to the many raider corpses and checked to make sure they were dead.

"No problem, kid! And my name isn't 'Sniper Guy', it's Stockholm!" the sniper called down from his roost.

"Well, Stockholm, I owe you a few beers later!" Isaac called back up as he began searching the raiders for valuables. Again, most of them just had junk or trash, and their armor was in horrible condition. However, Isaac did make sure to take the combat knife from the first raider he'd wounded, along with its sheath. The weapon was more compact and balanced than the clumsy kitchen cleaver Isaac had used that morning, and Isaac enjoyed the weight of the knife in his hand.

"Hard to believe that was only this morning," Isaac muttered to himself as he finished collecting what he could off of the raiders. The fruits of his labor were his new combat knife, a few rounds of .32 caliber ammo that Isaac didn't understand why a raider would have if they didn't have any guns, and a whetstone he could use to sharpen his new knife. He also made sure to stain Silver's old sweatshirt with a fair amount of blood.

"They all dead, kid?" Stockholm called down as he saw Isaac stand from the last raider.

"All dead!" Isaac called back, as he attached the combat knife's sheath to his hip.

"Alright, go on in! But if those corpses are still out here tomorrow, you are gonna be the one dragging them off away from the town!" Stockholm told the former Vault Dweller.

"Understandable!" Isaac agreed, before the drone of the jet engine in Megaton's wall kept them from talking anymore. Isaac quickly proceeded back into town, and he could hear the great metal walls sliding back in place to conceal the door as he began walking towards the center of town. He waved at Sheriff Simms when he saw the man, then headed up a ramp that led to the upper levels of the town.

Without any trouble he made it back to Moriarty's Saloon, at the wonderfully early time of 6:45pm. Isaac pushed open the door of the Saloon and went on it, nodding to Gob and Nova as he went to the back to speak to Moriarty. Nova flashed him one of her seductive smiles in return, and Gob merely gave a subtle nod in return.

Isaac knocked twice on the door to Moriarty's "room", then entered. The old Irishman sat at this computer terminal typing away at something, a half empty bottle of whiskey sitting on a desk nearby next to an empty plate that showed signs of recent use. Moriarty looked up from what he was doing, and grinned.

"Ah, the prodigal son returns!" the Irishman said as he stood to meet Isaac. "I take that means you have me money?"

"Not all of it, I'm afraid," Isaac shook his head, knowing Moriarty was about to get pissed. He extracted the bag of three hundred bottle caps from his pack and held it out to Moriarty. The bar-owner frowned as he felt the heft of the bag, glaring at Isaac.

"What is this supposed to be?" Moriarty asked with obvious irritation.

"I tried to get all your money back, even smacked her when she first told me that was all she had," Isaac said, immediately falling into the story he had fabricated for this very event, "but she kept insisting she had spent all the rest when she'd ran out of chems. Something about needing to keep high to keep the shame away or some such bullshit."

"That does sound like the wretched little cunt," Moriarty nodded slowly, still not satisfied. "Did you get rid of her like I told you, boyo?"

"That part, I was able to accomplish," Isaac grinned, extracting the bloodstained sweatshirt from his satchel.

"That's Silver's alright!" Moriarty laughed as he saw how much blood stained the material. "You must've gave her more holes than a raider's morals to get that much outta her."

"If I didn't I came pretty close," Isaac nodded. "Now about my father..?"

"Right, right, don't rush me, I was getting there," Moriarty chuckled. "Yer dear ol' Pa was here for awhile. Stopped in to see ol' Moriarty and find out how things are in the world today, having been out of it for almost twenty years. I told him what he needed to know, then he said something about heading off to Galaxy News Radio to see that Three Dog character."

"Alright, so where's Galaxy News?" Isaac said, getting a strange look from Moriarty.

"Ye aren't thinking of going there with only that little pea-shooter of a rifle and a pistol are ye?" Moriarty laughed.

"And why not?" Isaac said, not getting what was so funny.

"Boyo, the Galaxy News Radio building is in the heart o' D.C.. If you went in there with what ye got now, I doubt you'd make it three blocks," the old Irishman laughed. "And don't think I'm being nice, jus' because I'm warning ya. You're good for business, what wit taking care of Silver an' all, and I imagine you'll be drinking just as much as the rest sooner or later, so I can't have ye dyin' now."

"Alright, alright, fine," Isaac said, waving his hands in dismissal. "Then what _do_ you propose I do then?"

"Well, boyo, I heard a little word that you're supposed to be working for Moira, too" Moriarty shrugged. "Do that for a bit, make some caps, get some gear that isn't horrible. Or don't, and go die. I personally don't care all that much."

"Whatever," Isaac said, shaking his head in disgust. "So long, Moriarty," he said turning to walk back into the main room of the Saloon.

"Wait just a tic, boyo," Moriarty said, catching Isaac on the shoulder. 'I forgot to give ye yer bonus!"

"Bonus for what?" Isaac said, already thoroughly irritated with the bar-owner.

"For offin' Silver! Even though I told ye to, I didn't think ye'd have the balls to actually do it," Moriarty said, holding out the bag of three hundred caps back towards Isaac.

"Isn't that the money I just risked my life getting back for you?" Isaac said, raising an eyebrow.

"Aye, it is. But the caps were only half of it, lad. Power is what's important. And Silver making it seem like you could steal from me and get a free ticket hurt me reputation, which in turn hurt my power," Moriarty explained. "Now that you went and offed her, my reputation for not letting shit slip is back in place, and I'm respected once again."

"Respect and fear are two different things," Isaac pointed out, taking the caps anyways and stuffing them in the cap designated pouch of his satchel.

"True, but fear keeps people in line so much better!" Moriarty laughed before waving a hand at Isaac. "Now off with ye, I've got business to take care of!"

Isaac left the back of the saloon without another word to the irritating scoundrel, and walked around the bar to take a seat on one of the old stools. He noticed Nova still giving him that same smile, and Isaac felt his face getting hot. The woman smirked and sauntered over to him, taking a seat directly next to him.

"Gob and I appreciate what you did," Nova practically purred in his ear. "If you ever want to have some real fun, even I have some off hours."

"Nova, I appreciate that," Isaac said, leaning slightly away from the provocative woman, "I do. However, I'd rather not have my first sexual experience be with someone of your particular profession."

A look of indignation settled heavily on Nova's face, and she glared at him, "What's that supposed to mean!?"

"I meant no disrespect, Nova," Isaac said, waving his hand in a calm down manner. "Honestly I did not. While I would not choose the job myself, and I'm pretty sure you didn't either, you obviously seem to enjoy the power it gives you."

"And?" Nova quipped back, crossing her arms under her generous breasts.

"And, as I was getting to, it would be rather sad of me to do so. How sad would it be for a man to have to go to a prostitute to lose his virginity?" Isaac laughed.

"You have a point," Nova consented, slowly calming down. "After you lose that, though, you should come by."

"I most assuredly will," Isaac nodded. Nova finally seemed satisfied she had ensnared him, and went back to the place she normally stood at the base of the stairs.

"I second what Nova said, minus the sex invite," Gob chuckled as he passed Isaac a Nuka-Cola.

"Glad to help," Isaac said, before looking at the bottle of soda.

"On the house," Gob winked at him. Isaac grinned back at the Ghoul and took a sip, glad to enjoy the soda. It still had a bit of an after-taste, but what else from two hundred-year-old soda. Isaac sat sipping at the beverage for a moment before he looked back up at Gob.

"So, I have to ask," Isaac said, setting down his soda and catching Gob's attention. "How in the world did Moriarty get ahold of the two of you?"

Gob chuckled at Isaac's question as he finished wiping a shot glass to clean it, "Well, kid, I can't say much for Nova's story. She just showed up following Moriarty into the saloon with red eyes one day. As for me, I had started out in Underworld. That's a ghoul city, down in D.C.. Only ghoul city as far as I know, matter of fact. Anyway, I took off from there years ago, intent on trying to find some way to heal, or cure, or whatever, this damn condition my body is in. I managed to make it to the western edge of the Capitol Wasteland and was near here when I got jumped by raiders. Bastards beat me up real good, nearly killed me, but I managed to take 'em. Got all the way to the front gate of Megaton before I passed out. When I woke up, it was from a bucket of irradiated water getting dumped on my face."

"And what happened then?" Isaac asked, enthralled by Gob's story.

"That's when I met Moriarty. He immediately started talking about how I owe him for saving my life. How if it hadn't been for his kindness that day I'd have been picked apart by buzzards or ants or something. Been here, getting the shit slapped out of me, taking shit from the locals, and serving drinks ever since," Gob shrugged.

"What's stopping you from leaving?" Isaac asked, not understanding why Gob didn't just sneak off one night.

"I would if I was able to, but then Moriarty would take it out on Nova and all his contacts would eventually hunt me down," Gob sighed, cleaning another glass. "Sorry, smoothskin, but talking about all of it kinda gets me down. You got my story though, maybe after Nova's done trying to get in your pants you can get her's."

"Yeah, I guess so," Isaac blushed at the mention of Nova's advances, checking the time on his Pip-Boy. "Wow...it's already almost eight. I better get going, Gob." he said, as he stood, tossing down a few caps for the cola.

"Don't want him getting pissy with you two," Isaac said before Gob could protest, the Ghoul reluctantly taking the caps.

"See ya 'round, friend," God waved as Isaac started leaving, a hint of a smile on what remained of his lips.

"See ya," Isaac waved back before heading out the door.

Isaac decided he would talk to Moira about the Survival Guide tomorrow and started walking the edge of the crater back to his home. He actually felt pretty good about the days events, despite the horrible way it had started and what he'd had to do. He let out a long, slow sigh as he finally forced himself to relax.

"Yeah, today was fucked up," Isaac decided as he finally made it home. He entered the sparsely furnished building with a small smile. "But at least I have a place to lay my head. And I've got a lead on Dad."

"Hello, sir!" Wadsworth called in his cheerful British tones from where he was air-dusting the Vault-Tec Bobble-head stand.

"Hello, Wadsworth," Isaac tiredly remarked, as he walked to the non-powered refrigerator. "Do we have any other decent food to eat?"

"My inventories indicate that there is one more tin of Cram, a box of Sugar Bombs on the shelf next to the glass mugs to your left, and I believe you may acquire at hot meal at the tavern located beneath this home," Wadsworth responded clearly.

"The time?" Isaac asked, rubbing his eyes.

"8:25pm, sir," Wadsworth drawled.

"Guess I'll hit the Brass Lantern then," Isaac sighed as he started for the door again. "Thank you, Wadsworth."

"Of course, sir," came the chipper reply before Isaac shut the door behind him.

Isaac proceeded down the old path at the 'Lantern. He smiled at the smell of some kind of meat cooking, and sat down at the bar. A woman who appeared to be in her later twenties walked up to him with a tired look on her face. Isaac resisted the urge to chuckle as the cynical part of his brain remarked about being more than one kind of tired.

The woman cracked a small smile as she recognized him, "You're that boy who disarmed the bomb. Name's Jenny Stahl. What can I get for ya?"

"Isaac Stark," Isaac said with a small smile in return. "And this is actually my first day out here in the big bad real world."

"Is that right?" Jenny smiled. "Well ain't that a surprise. Since that's the case, I'll get you some of the real good stuff."

"I appreciate it. Not too sure what all is 'the good stuff' out here, yet," Isaac said as Jenny went inside. The young woman returned a moment later with a steaming plate with a large slab of what looked like steak, with a dark brown gravy poured over it. Isaac smiled at the smell of the food at reached into his bag for his caps.

"No need, kid," Jenny said as she placed the plate of food and a set of tableware down in front of him. "You got rid of the bomb for us, this one's on the house."

"Wow," Isaac said, swiping a bit of saliva from the corner of his mouth as he realized he was drooling at the smell of the meal. "Thanks a lot."

"Sure thing," Jenny said, taking her normal place leaning against the side of the building again. "Keep in mind, though, one of those steaks with that gravy is usually 20 caps."

"I will," Isaac said, taking the knife and fork and cutting a bite away. He slowly placed the cut of meat in his mouth and chewed, surprised by the taste. He had expected it to taste overly salty like the rest of the food he'd had so far. To his great joy the meat was tender and juicy, the brown gravy giving the meat a thick and savory flavor.

"This is so good," Isaac almost cried. "This is even better than some of the Vault food."

"I'll be sure to give your compliments to the chef," Jenny laughed. Isaac ate the steak at a steady pace, slowly and thoroughly chewing each bite before swallowing. It took him almost fifteen minutes to eat the meal, but when he was done he was totally satisfied.

"That was by far the silver lining of this whole day," Isaac sighed in contentment. Jenny gave him another small smile and took the plate and tableware back, waving goodnight to Isaac and letting him know that the Lantern was about to close.

"You'll have to recommend something for me to try for breakfast," Isaac told Jenny as he flashed a grin. Jenny Stahl actually blushed a bit before she nodded and went inside.

With a full stomach and a somewhat better mood, Isaac went home. Wadsworth greeted him again, and Isaac returned the favor. After dropping his satchel to the ground by one of his equipment lockers, the young man went up to his room with his pistol, knife, the whetstone, his hunting rifle, and several tools. Setting everything out on his bed, he proceeded to disassemble and reassemble his guns, checking the parts for any signs of damage and cleaning the weapons the way Officer Gomez had taught him years ago.

When that was done he took his rifle downstairs and put it in his weapons locker, then when back upstairs and began sharpening the blade of his new combat knife. By the time he finished maintaining all of his recently acquired weapons, his Pip-Boy read that it was already almost 10:00pm.. Isaac sighed as he stood and stretched from his seat, then crouched to take off his work boots.

"Maybe this time I'll actually sleep," he muttered to himself as he stripped out of his armored jumpsuit and his bullet-resistant vest. Isaac dropped to his bed and stretched out on it. Clad in only his boxer-shorts and a white t-shirt, he closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

_Dad... stay alive..._

* * *

**I am soooooo sorry to all my reviewers and followers! My life has been crazy this last few weeks and it's been wild trying to find time to write. I shall try to post them up more frequently, but I have learned not to make any more promises I don't know if I can keep. With that said, I hope to receive more feedback about the story. I noticed a huge drop in reviews. Please review, people, it is motivation given carnation!**

**Yours truly, this is Relks The Disturbed, and you're reading Fallout: The Journey Forward. A new and insane Capitol Wasteland, and we're here, for you!**


	5. Chapter 5: Under Strange Circumstance

Isaac awoke with a scream, coming up from his bed swinging. Reality clicked back on just a second too late, and the knuckles of Isaac's right fist impacted hard into the metal of his bedroom wall. Isaac roared in pain as the fog of sleep faded. He cradled his injured hand and sighed, wiping the fresh tears from his face.

"That damn nightmare, again!" Isaac swore, wiping his eyes again. He looked at his Pip-Boy's screen and sighed as he saw it was only four in the morning. With yet another muttered curse, Isaac got up out of bed and began pulling his armored jumpsuit back on. Once the armored garment was properly in place upon his frame, he pulled on his boots and sourly laced the strings.

"Sir. Should you not be asleep right now? According to my internal clock it is but 4:00a.m.," Wadsworth called as the robot reactivated from his charging station. Isaac looked at the robot and sighed.

"Having a bit of trouble sleeping, Wadsworth," he told his robotic butler. "I'm going to go to Moriarty's Saloon. See if Gob's got any more Nuka-Cola." With a small nod of his center robotic eye, Wadsworth powered back down until his scheduled activation time. Isaac studied the powered-down Mister Handy for a moment, then returned to his room. He strapped on the holster for his pistol and set the weapon in its place. Next, he attached the sheath of his combat knife to his belt near his left hip and sheathed the blade. Satisfied that he wasn't going out into the big bad world without some claws, Isaac grabbed his satchel off the ground from the first floor of the house and left the building.

Megaton was almost eerily quiet in the pre-dawn hours of the day, and Isaac found himself missing the constant din of the Vault's air circulation systems. He took the two left turns that took him from the front door of his home and led to the pathway down towards the heart of the crater. Isaac looked around at the small flickers of light from homes of the few people who were awake at this time of the day. As he passed the outdoor table and stools of the Brass Lantern, he smiled to himself as he remembered the steak he'd eaten for dinner yesterday.

Isaac looked around the crater from his vantage point at the center of everything. He saw a ramp leading up to the upper levels to his left, and followed the course it took looping back towards his house and then along the uppermost levels of the catwalks that led to Moriarty's bar. It took him no time at all to reach the saloon, and he smiled as he found the door unlocked.

"What the hell are you doing up at this ungodly hour, smoothskin?" Gob called from behind the bar. Isaac was surprised to see the Ghoul up this early, though he was glad he was. To further Isaac's astonishment, he could see a few people who probably lived in the Common House sitting around, along with a somewhat large man with close cropped black hair sitting at the bar. The young Vault Dweller took a seat at the bar stool in front of Gob and gave a halfhearted smile.

"Bit of trouble sleeping, is all," Isaac sighed. "Got anymore sodas?"

"Kid, what you need isn't a soda," Gob said as he reached under the bar. "Give me forty caps."

"What for?" Isaac asked, fishing out the requested caps.

"This," Gob said as he plunked down a large bottle labeled 'Jameson Irish Whiskey".

"Whiskey? Don't give him d'at piss," the large black haired man said from Isaac's right. Now that Isaac had a better view, he could see the big man had a short and rough beard the same black as his short cropped hair, along with dark brown eyes. He had distinctly northern European features, and spoke with a heavy accent of some sort. The large man was clad in scratched black armor that looked like it was designed for combat.

"Just because you have an addiction to vodka doesn't mean that all other liquor is bad, Mikhail," Gob said with a slight droop of his nonexistent eyebrows.

"You are full of shit, Gob," Mikhail grunted as he poured himself another shot from the large bottle of vodka he had sitting in front of him.

"Anyways, Isaac, here," Gob said as he took the caps from Isaac and sat the bottle down in front of the young man.

"Um, Gob, I'm under twenty-one," Isaac said with a unsure sigh. For some reason, this was incredibly funny to Mikhail. The large man let out a series of short barking laughs, and looked at Isaac as though he had grown two heads.

"Shit like d'at does not metter anymore, dumbass!" the big man laughed.

"He is right," Gob sighed, as he gave the big man a sideways look.

"If you're sure," Isaac said, pouring himself a shot as well. He looked at the alcohol for a moment and then tossed it back. The whiskey burned his throat and he fought back the urge to cough as he waited for it to subside. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mikhail smirk before continuing to drink.

Isaac let out a hot breath after the burn had subsided in his chest. He smiled at the warm feeling that began spreading through his body, and took another shot. Gob cautioned Isaac as he drank, warning the young man not to take too much too quickly. Isaac continued to drink consistently, and Mikhail noticed that the kid had a pretty good tolerance level.

* * *

It was around six in the morning that more people finally started coming in. Mostly the Common Housers trying to get a drink before starting their day. Unfortunately, one particular ex-raider also came in. Jericho had been, as he described, 'a real bastard' in his youth. However the magic of time hadn't managed to stave his temper, and the man was almost always hostile, especially in the early mornings. It also just so happened that a certain now drunk former Vault Dweller was in Jericho's favorite seat.

"Hey, asshole, you're on my stool," Jericho, balding head gleaming in the off-key light of the bar, practically growled at the young man.

Normally Isaac would have calmly handled things, but the whiskey had gotten to him, "Oh yeah? I dnn' see yer fuckin' name on it."

"What was that, asshole?" Jericho growled, grabbing Isaac by the scruff of his armored jumpsuit. Isaac's eyes focused in on Jericho's face after a moment. And, with the way things usually work when heavily intoxicated, Isaac said the first thing that came to mind.

"Goddamn, you're ugly," Isaac said with surprising clarity. Jericho bristled at the statement, and pulled back his other hand into a clenched fist. Isaac looked at Jericho's face, then at the pulled back fist. Then he decided that he didn't like the look of Jericho.

"I'm gonna wreck you're fa-" Jericho began, before Isaac's left fist slammed into Jericho's mouth. Jericho howled in pain and swung back, clocking Isaac in the jaw. Isaac shook off the pain of the blow and squared up his boxing stance.

"Guys, don't do anything stupid," Gob said in his attempt at a soothing voice, hands raised.

"Shut the fuck up, ya damn zombie!" Jericho yelled, further angering Isaac.

"Gob's bein nice ya fuckin' ass!" Isaac swore, swinging at Jericho again, this time with a right straight. He clocked the ex-raider cleanly in the face, and the older man thrashed out and caught a Common Houser in the backlash. This angered the Common Houser, who tried to swing at Jericho and instead hit another Common Houser, and in the blink of an eye the entire place devolved into a giant bar fight.

"I'm gonna fuck you up real good, kid," Jericho said, swinging out with his left fist at Isaac's face. Isaac drunkenly dodged the attack, and returned the favor with a hard right hook. Jericho grunted in pain and swung at Isaac with a clumsy right haymaker. Isaac ducked under the punch and sent a left hook into Jericho's ribs, the fight thoroughly sobering the boy up. Bedlam had taken over in the background, though the ex-raider and the Vault Dweller focused only on each other.

Jericho threw another clumsy right haymaker at Isaac, and the young man caught the arm and threw Jericho into the bar. The ex-raider groaned in pain as his nose broke on impact with the metal bar-frame. Then Isaac smacked Jericho's head into the corner of the bar and threw him up onto it. With a roar of triumph, Isaac ran Jericho down the bar and into the wall. As a side effect, this knocked all of the bottles off the bar, including Isaac's whiskey, and shattering Mikhail's vodka all over the floor.

Mikhail looked down at his broken bottle, and glared, "D'at. Was. Mine." With a low growl, Mikhail spun and slammed his left fist into Isaac's abdomen. The Vault Dweller coughed in pain as he hit the floor, using a bar stool to get back to his feet. Isaac rushed in on Mikhail, throwing left and right hook combinations. Mikhail blocked most of the punches, only taking a couple. Mikhail returned with a strong left jab to the jaw, which sent Isaac stumbling back. Isaac had half a second to gather his wits and went back to swinging at Mikhail again...

* * *

"What in the name of all tha's great and holy is this!" Moriarty yelled as he walked out of his room to survey the wrecked bar. By no small miracle, the Irish bar-owner had slept through the entire bar fight. Bar stools were scattered about the spacious room, people were passed out or knocked out all over the place, and Moriarty's precious saloon was in general shambles. There were only two people other than Gob conscious in the room, and Moriarty cursed as he recognized them.

"Kid. You not so bad," Mikhail sighed as he and Isaac lay sprawled across the ground of the small room that made up the left front end of the bar. Mikhail had gotten another bottle of vodka at some point and passed it to his left to the former Vault Dweller.

"You're alright yourself," Isaac replied as he took the bottle and got a swig, passing it back to the big man. "But why do you talk like that?"

"I'm Russian, dumb Yankee," Mikhail laughed, as he took another drink himself. Both brawlers had busted lips, black eyes, and bruises abound. But, in return for their wounds, the two had bonded in the way only two men after a bar fight could.

"Isaac Stark," Isaac said as he extended his right hand to Mikhail. "Former resident of Vault 101."

"Mikhail, just Mikhail," the big Russian responded, gruffly shaking Isaac's hand, "Vodka-loving traveler of Russia."

"YOU! YOU TWO MISERABLE BASTARDS BETTER HAVE ENOUGH TO PAY FOR ALL THIS!" Moriarty screeched as he hopped over the bar with astonishing agility for someone his age, a sawed-off double barrel shotgun clenched in his right hand.

"What does he...?" Isaac asked as he sat up, seeing the wrecked bar around him and Mikhail.

Mikhail sat up as well and looked on at the aftermath of the destruction from the bar fight, "Zaebis'!"

"Caps! Now ye dirty sons a bitches!" Moriarty howled waving the shotgun back and forth between Isaac and Mikhail as they sat there on the ground.

"Idi na xuy husesos!" Mikhail glared at the Irishman. Moriarty didn't understand the language, but he got the message. The irate Irishman pressed the end of the barrel against Mikhail's forehead.

"Calm down, Moriarty," Isaac said as he stood and retrieved his satchel from where Gob had hidden it behind the bar after the bar fight had started. "I have some caps."

"Ye damn well better!" Moriarty swore as he kept the business end of his shotgun trained on Mikhail's head.

"Three hundred," Isaac said as he tossed the bag of currency onto the floor at the Irishman's feet.

Moriarty looked at the caps, then quickly grabbed them up from the ground with his free hand. He tested the weight of the bag, and found it satisfactory. Mikhail still glared at Moriarty from the other end of the shotgun, and Isaac glared from the side. The former Vault Dweller watched anxiously for Moriarty to lower his weapon.

"Ah'right, I'll let it slide this time," Moriarty said, as he pushed the shotgun against Mikhail's forehead harder. "But this happens again and I'll kill the both o' ya."

"Mne pohui," Mikhail spat at the fellow foreigner, swatting the shotgun out of his face in one movement as he stood. The Russian towered over the Irishman by at least half a foot. Mikhail's jaw muscles were visible against his face as he glared down at the smaller man.

"We'll be leaving now," Isaac told Moriarty with a glare, putting a hand on Mikhail's shoulder.

Mikhail looked down at Isaac, standing well over him as well, and nodded. The big Russian grabbed his half-empty liter of vodka off the floor, then nodded towards the door. The former Vault Dweller and the Russian left in companionable silence, leaving the whole bar shocked. Moriarty stared after them for awhile before he walked over to the closest pile of Common Housers.

"What are ye waitin' for ye damn fuckers!" Moriarty yelled as he kicked one awake. "FUCK!"

* * *

"Isaac, you saved d'at man's life," Mikhail said as they walked away from the Saloon. They took the same path Isaac had to arrive at the bar hours ago, and the sun was just now beginning to rise. Isaac looked up at the sky for a moment, before smiling slightly to himself.

"Kinda figured, big guy," Isaac chuckled. "Say, I promised Jenny Stahl that I'd be coming by for breakfast this morning. Buy ya a meal to pay you back for the vodka I shattered?"

It was Mikhail's turn to laugh, as the larger man pointed at the swollen left side of Isaac's entire face, "I think you already pay me back with d'at fucked up face, but who am I to turn down free meal."

"Keep laughing when your ribs wake up," Isaac grinned at the big man as they reached the heart of the crater.

Mikhail laughed again and wrapped his large left arm around Isaac's shoulders, "Right, right. Don't expect cheap fuck out of me just because you buy me breakfast."

"What?" Isaac asked as he turned his head to look at Mikhail.

"Is old thing. From time before Great War," Mikhail explained as they took their seats at the outdoor bar. "Old saying was 'Do you want to get some breakfast' after one night stand. I make joke."

"Oh, okay," Isaac nodded as he understood. "Thought you were getting weird on me for a minute."

"Trust Mikhail, Yankee, you not pretty enough," Mikhail joked, Isaac laughing with him.

_'Maybe life out here isn't all gloom and doom after all' _Isaac thought as Jenny Stahl came out to take Isaac and his new friend's orders for breakfast..

* * *

**Alrighty, folks. This one is real short compared to most of my other chapters, but it was mainly to introduce my favorite Russian. One of my early reviewers "collegegirl" asked if I was diverting from the original storyline. This is the part where things start changing up a bit.**

**Translations: "Zaebis'!" means "Awesome!". "Idi na xuy husesos!" roughly means "Fuck off, cocksucker!" and "Mne pohui," translates to "I don't give a fuck."**

**As always, please drop a review and feel free to give any non-flame criticism you feel necessary. **

**Thanks for reading, chiiildren. This is Relks the Disturbed! And you're reading Fallout: The Journey Forward! A new and insane Capitol Wasteland, and we're here, for you!**


	6. Chapter 6: Learning the Trade

"Why the hell did I agree to this?" Isaac sighed as he sat cross-legged in a large basin in the middle of the floor of Craterside Supply.

"Because I'm paying you?" Moira supplied as she dumped another bucket of radioactive water into the basin. Currently the disgustingly tepid water was almost to Isaac's ribs as his Pip-Boy's Geiger-counter steadily ticked off the radiation he was taking in. It was a steady increase of rads that, while not too quick, would have him severely irradiated by the end of the morning.

"She has point, Yankee," Mikhail smirked from where he sat on a chair watching as Isaac fidgeted in the toxic water. "Money makes world go 'round."

"Yeah, yeah," Isaac deflated, resigning himself to his own stupid commitment.

After the two new friends had finished their breakfast of squirrel stew at the Brass Lantern, Isaac had decided he needed to talk to Moira about the Survival Guide. To his great surprise and chagrin, she had asked him to get irradiated so she could study radiation sickness. It had taken her a lot of convincing and promises of a stock of radiation-related medicines, but Isaac had finally agreed. Now he sat in an old washing basin, soaking up to his ribs in radioactive water in only his boxers, with his Russian friend making jokes.

"So what's your little wrist computer say you're at?" Moira asked as she stood nearby holding a pencil and notepad in her hands.

"Five hundred rads," Isaac groaned. Now that he had seen just how much radiation was in his system, he felt the wooziness and fatigue hit him in a deluge of misery.

'_Guess mind over matter is right, neh?' _That little cynical part of Isaac's brain quipped. The young man was starting to suspect that he might be going crazy, but brushed it off. If he was still totally normal after having his life flipped on its ass, then he'd be worried.

"Describe how you're feeling, please?" Moira asked, as she noted down what radiation threshold he was at.

"Tired... pretty nauseous," Isaac said, dry swallowing the urge to gag. "And my skin kinda itches."

"I think you lost hair too," Mikhail supplied. Isaac ran a hand through the thick brown hair on his head and was surprised to see several strands clinging to his hand.

"Okay, hair loss too, I guess," Isaac sighed. His Pip-Boy then beeped loudly, as he hit the 600 Rads mark.

"And now?" Moira asked.

"Now... I could really use some medicine," Isaac moaned before he barfed onto the ground of Craterside Supply. Luckily, Moira had closed the store for the morning to run the experiment.

"In just a bit," Moira nodded. "I need you to describe how you feel."

"Exhausted... sore, very nauseous," Isaac said before he gagged and vomited again. His blue eyes were badly bloodshot as he looked back at Moira, and his skin was turning deathly pale.

"Anything else?" Moira asked, all scientist and no empathy.

"I..don't... know," Isaac said before collapsing into a coughing fit. To his horror, several flakes of skin painful ripped themselves away from his torso.

"Okay, Mikhail, get him out," Moira said as she finished her notes.

"Why can't you?" Mikhail said, looking at the woman indignantly. Sure, Isaac was his friend, but it had been her idea and Mikhail wasn't getting paid.

"I'll give you a couple bottles of liquor," Moira said distractedly as she went over to a table and began mixing things in a vial. "Bit of brahmin milk... couple of powdered magnets... maybe some happy thoughts..."

Mikhail sighed and put his flask away before going over and dragging Isaac up and out of the basin. He grunted as he tossed Isaac's right arm over shoulders and pulled him clear of the basin and Isaac's own vomit. The young man, who had formerly looked strong and healthy, was coughing weakly. More flakes of skin fell away from him as Mikhail kept him on his feet.

"There's an extra cot behind the stairs in the other room, lay him there," Moira said as she finished mixing all of the ingredients to her cure.

Mikhail did as the crazy woman asked, trying to lower Isaac and gently as possible. Isaac winced and curled into a ball on the bed, his throat tightening and relaxing as he tried to keep from vomiting more.

"I need you to drink this," Moira said, lifting his head and holding the vial to Isaac's lips. The young man grimaced as the make-shift cure ran down his throat, the stuff tasting absolutely awful. As soon as Moira set his head back down, Isaac's eyes closed and he passed out.

" You didn't kill him?" Mikhail asked in an even tone.

"No, no, he still has a pulse," Moira sighed in relief, not liking the look in Mikhail's eyes.

"D'en let him rest," Mikhail said, moving Moira out of the room.

* * *

Isaac awoke hours later. He gingerly sat up, finding that he had some strength back in his limbs. Moira was seated in a chair near the cot, pencil and paper on her lap as she looked at him apologetically. Isaac was now clad in a fresh off-white t-shirt and a old pair of brahmin skin pants, but at least he wasn't almost naked.

"So, I assume the cure works," Isaac said weakly, finding his throat dry.

"Yeah," Moira nodded. "There's just one little problem..."

"Which is?" Isaac inquired, not liking the sound of that.

"Well, I had Doc Church come check on you about an hour ago, it's four in the afternoon by the way, and he had some news..." Moira began, sheepishly twiddling with her thumbs.

"And?" Isaac asked, fearing the worst.

"Well... you had a lot of minor injuries from your bar fight this morning, right?" Moira supplied.

"Yeah, and?" Isaac asked.

"And they aren't there now. It seems the overdose of radiation... in combination with my unorthodox cure... caused a teeny tiny...mutation," Moira said.

"It did what!?" Isaac yelled, on his feet before he realized it.

"It seems benign at least!" Moira defended. "Doc Church said it looked like whenever you took on radiation -we had to have you drink some water and your robot wouldn't let us in your house- your body's healing sped up a little..."

"So now I'm a mutant," Isaac said, falling back onto the cot. "Fucking great."

"It could be worse," Moira offered. "You could have become a ghoul."

"True enough," Isaac sighed. "Anything else?"

"Well, I already dumped all the medicine I promised into your satchel. I even cleaned your jumpsuit for you," Moira said, trying to make amends with the clearly unhappy Isaac.

"Thanks," Isaac said as he tested his body to see if anything else was wrong. "What else did you need done for the first chapter?" he said with an air of despondency.

"Oh don't seem so down in the dumps!" Moira chastised. "The other two things I need done are information on gathering supplies, namely food and medicine, and how to deal with the non-living dangers of the Wasteland, namely with explosive mines."

"Ugh," Isaac groaned, his head in his hands. "I'll do the food thing, I guess."

"Alrighty!" came Moira's chipper reply from behind the comforting darkness presented by Isaac's hands in front of his face. "There's an old Super Duper Mart a couple miles south-east of here, that might still have some food there. If you can, also try and look around for medicines. Can never have enough of either, right?"

"Right," Isaac sighed. "Can I change back into my normal clothes, please?"

"Of course, no problem," Moira replied in her ever-present cheerful fashion as she stood and left for the main room. "Your clothes are on top of your satchel."

"Thanks," Isaac muttered before drawing the curtain. He changed quickly, folding up the t-shirt and brahmin-skin pants and leaving them on the cot. Once he was back in his familiar clothing of his armored jumpsuit, Kevlar vest and underclothes, he pulled the curtain aside. The mercenary that guarded Craterside Supply gave Isaac a small nod of acknowledgement, and Isaac looked around for Mikhail.

"If you're looking for your friend, he said he was going back to the Brass Lantern," Moira told him, from where she sat making more batches of her strange radiation cure. "Maybe if I used less of that compound..."

"I'll see you later then," Isaac said before he left the shop.

* * *

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me!" Isaac swore as he ducked his head back. Bullets thudding into the corner he hid behind almost made it too loud to think. Isaac cursed to himself, reloading his 10mm handgun.

"Go to the Super-Duper Mart, she says! Look for food, she says!" the irate Vault Dweller swore. "Why is nothing ever fucking easy!"

"You shut hell up and shoot now, yeah?" Mikhail roared from where he hid a short ways off, behind an old burned out Pre-war car. The large Ex-Soviet held a Saiga-12 semi-automatic shotgun in his hands. The firearm was painted jet black, and a twenty shell drum was connected in the clip port instead of the standard ten shell magazine. From what Mikhail had told Isaac, the Saiga was the shotgun version of the famous Russian AK-47 assault rifle, with some slight modifications to accept shotgun shells and handle the recoil.

Mikhail also had a large dark brown backpack strapped to his back, along with a bandoleer of extra shotgun shells across his chest. The backpack contained all his extra provisions: several days worth of food depending on how he rationed it, three bottles full of clean water thanks to Wadsworth, four extra twenty-shell drums for his Saiga, and two spare boxes of loose shotgun shells. Not to begin to mention the three flasks of vodka.

"I'd love to, but I'm kinda busy not getting shot!" Isaac retorted, peeking around the corner only to barely avoid a bullet that whizzed past his head.

This whole horrible mess had started the previous day after Isaac had found Mikhail yet again drinking at the Brass Lantern. In the time Isaac had known the large Russian, he noticed that the man never seemed to stop drinking long enough to become totally sober. However at the same time, Mikhail seemed to have found the perfect balance to always stay buzzed at the least, but never too shitfaced to function.

Isaac had convinced the Russian to accompany him on the job that Moira had given him, at the promise that Isaac split the reward with him. Isaac had happily agreed, but decided to postpone the job until the next day since it was already too late into the afternoon to leave without risking running the job after dark. With the choice made, they sought dinner at the Lantern then made arrangements for where Mikhail would sleep for the night.

Isaac in the end decided to buy the big guy a fair sized cot and bed from Moira for the fair sum of only sixty caps. They had to move some things in Isaac's house to make a place for the cot, but after awhile they had it down. Isaac had been forced to rearrange the wiring in the house to move Wadsworth's charging station to a smaller storage area under the stairs, but the robotic butler did not seem to mind. After the two had taken a full nights rest, they had gone to work...

Finding the Super Duper Mart hadn't been to much of an issue. All they had been forced to deal with on the way there were a few incredibly ugly creatures that Mikhail had called Mole-Rats. Mikhail had even laughed as he pulled a knife from somewhere on his person and began cutting some meat away from the creatures as he wrapped it in some strange brown paper. It had been when they arrived that everything had gone to hell.

Isaac and Mikhail had arrived to find a fight already in progress. The two had heard gunshots in the distance as they approached the old store. The building that was Super Duper Mart was rather plain from the back, just a large rectangular building with some old air vents and piping in the back of the building. The duo had rushed around the left side of the back, what would have been the right-hand side of the front of the store, only to discover what had happened.

They arrived just in time to see a group of raiders finishing up slaughtering a band of traveling Wastelanders. Mikhail had almost managed to grab Isaac by the collar before the young man could run out to try and help, but had been too late. Isaac stepped out around the corner wide out into the open, and the raiders immediately noticed. Unlike the raiders that Isaac had faced in Springvale, the majority of these raiders were armed with small arms at the minimum. The rabid humans opened fire at Isaac, who just barely had time to jump back behind cover. Mikhail had ducked behind a burned out car that was settled at the edge of the old parking lot...

* * *

"Didn't you say you had experience at this kinda stuff!?" Isaac called to Mikhail, over the sound of gunfire. The large Russian looked like he was about to reply, when the bullets suddenly stopped flying. Mikhail clamped his mouth shut quickly, keeping low to the ground as he shook his head to let Isaac know to stay quiet.

"Hey, Barney! Go check and see if the fucks had anything good on them. That many bullets, no way they're alive!" A male raider's voice could be heard from where they hid behind cover.

Isaac looked at Mikhail for guidance, and he held his finger to his lips in response. The steady clatter of footsteps could be heard drawing closer, audible even over the sound of the other raiders jeering as they looted the corpses of the dead wastelanders. Within a few short moments, the footsteps were right at the crux of the corner.

Barney was just under five feet five inches tall and looked like he was somewhere in his late twenties, with a shaved head and dirty beige skin. Despite his name, he had a vaguely Hispanic look about him. He was wearing what had been explained to Isaac as 'raider painspike armor'. The 'armor' didn't protect much, though Barney did have a N99 10mm pistol in his right hand.

"You guys sure shot this place to shit," Barney swore in a rough voice, his throat sounding harsh as if he had smoked far too much. Mikhail got Isaac's attention with a subtle movement and mouthed the word 'knife'. Isaac got the idea and silently drew his combat knife from his hip, holding the bladed weapon in his left hand.

"There ain't no blo-" Barney managed as he turned the corner. He was cut off as Isaac launched himself up violently from his crouching position. Isaac wrapped his right hand around the back of Barney's neck, gripping tightly on the concave area where the spine met the base of the skull. With a quiet growl, Isaac drove the blade of his combat knife straight through Barney's throat.

The raider croaked weakly and tried to raise his pistol, but Isaac slammed his forehead into the dying man's nose. Barney dropped his pistol as his eyes went vacant, and Isaac hurriedly yanked his knife free from the new corpse. Mikhail nodded his approval from where he hid, then made a hand motion with his fingers that gave the message of 'Keep an eye out'.

"Barney, what the fuck!?" the same male voice from before swore. "You better not be fuckin' the corpses again! Gah, you sick fucking bastard!"

Several tense second passed before the raiders realized what had occurred, and then several sets of footsteps began stampeding toward their location. Mikhail shook his head and peaked out quickly over the rim of the destroyed car's window, taking a quick inventory of the enemy. Three more raiders, all male in painspike or badlands armor, two with hunting rifles and one with a N99 pistol.

"Quiet time is over, Yankee!" Mikhail bellowed to Isaac. The Russian stood higher from his crouch and looked through the vacant window-frame. He lined up his first shot on one of the painspike armor wearing males. He had a strange haircut that consisted of only a fringe over the left side of his forehead, and began raising a 10mm pistol as soon as Mikhail became visible in the window. Mikhail smirked with grim satisfaction as he pulled the trigger and the raider's head transformed into a cloud of gore.

"Fuck!" One of the two remaining raiders screamed, aiming his rifle at Mikhail's face. Mikhail ducked back behind the husk of the car just as a .32 caliber bullet bounced off the wrecked hood of the car. The two remaining raiders closed in, hunting rifles trained on where Mikhail hid. One was clad in painspike armor, his hair shaved down to almost nonexistence. The other wore badlands armor, which was really little more than pre-war clothes, and had greasy long black hair.

"I'm gonna fuck you up real good, you asshole!" the raider in the badlands armor yelled behind the car, as they both circled around it from opposite sides.

"Is d'at a fact?" Mikhail grinned at the one wearing badlands armor, who had came around from the far end of the car. "Because I think not."

"Wha-" the raider started, looking past Mikhail just in time to see his cohort's head explode all over what had once been the hood of the car. As the headless body dropped to the ground, he saw a man wearing a blue jumpsuit holding a smoking gun.

"And now, mochu dlya mozgov, you dead," came the Russian's taunt, before the raider's world ended in a flash of gunfire.

* * *

"Find anything good?" Isaac asked as he returned from checking the dead bodies of the Wasters that had been jumped by the raiders. The poor souls had barely had a cap to their names, and only one of them had even had a weapon. It had been a kitchen knife.

"Only shitty guns, and shittier armor," came Mikhail's response as he tossed the last of the gear into a pile. "Got bit of spare ammo, though."

"I'm surprised they even had that much," Isaac muttered, crouching down next to the pile of guns and extracting his screwdriver. Within ten minutes all the guns were disassembled and Mikhail and Isaac were setting the parts aside, sorting good from bad.

"It too bad they not have anything better," Mikhail commented as he began helping Isaac reassemble the weapons. The Russian had been maintaining his shotgun since he left the Russian homeland, so he knew a thing or two about reassembling the weapons with naught but one of Isaac's spare screwdrivers.

"They're practically savages, so it's to be expected," Isaac retorted as he finished reassembling the one spare hunting rifle, having used the other higher-quality parts to repair his own. Once all the guns had been reassembled, leaving a total of one each of a spare hunting rifle and a N99 pistol, Isaac stowed them away in his bag. With the scavenging done, the two headed into the super market.

The inside of the Super Duper Mart smelled stale and dusty. Isaac blinked repeatedly as his eyes tried to adjust to the comparatively dim lighting of the ancient shopping center. Indistinct voices could be heard from further into the store, distorted by the distance. Mikhail quietly caught Isaac by the shoulder and pulled him behind an overturned Nuka-Cola machine.

"I hear voices," the big man spoke quietly, barely above a whisper. "Look, d'ere," he said, pointing at a man walking on what used to be the top of the shelving that made up the aisles of the store.

"Should I try and peg him?" Isaac asked, his right hand reaching back for his rifle.

"Nyeht," Mikhail shook his head, pushing Isaac's hand back down. "Too noisy. Let Mikhail show you how Russian deals with problem." The big man kept low to the ground, moving along the registers that lined the front of the store towards the aisles. With only the slightest of sounds, Mikhail reached the point on Aisle 5 that the raider stood above.

At the distance Isaac was at, he could only make out the vague figure on top of the aisle and the broader shape of Mikhail low to the ground, black combat armor aiding the Russian in his stealth. The distance, however, didn't stop the loud yelp that echoed throughout the entire building as Isaac saw Mikhail stand, grab the raider by the ankles and swing the man face first into the shelf behind him. A quick twist of the neck followed the barbaric display, and Mikhail ducked back into the shadows and moved to another aisle. Just in time, as a raider appeared at the end of Aisle 5 to see his cohort dead.

"WE GOT SOMEONE SNEAKIN' AROUND!" the raider yelled, alerting the rest in the building. Yells of reply came from various areas around the store, and Isaac frowned as he tried to figure out why Mikhail let the body be discovered so easily. Then he saw Mikhail on his stomach under a rack of shelves that had been knocked over into the shelves next to it. Isaac watched as the Russian glanced about, noting where each set of voices was coming from, and it made sense what Mikhail was doing.

"He made them reveal where they were!" Isaac whispered to himself, getting the idea. Taking the initiative, Isaac sneaked over to the first register from the door, the entire store spanning out from him as the register was in the front-left corner closest to the left-side entrance. His idea to help Mikhail stealthily kill the raiders was thrown out the window, when he saw Mikhail shove the shelf into a raider, crushing him.

"Ya slomayu tebe inbrednykh ublyudkov!" Mikhail roared, as he brought around his shotgun and blasted the next unfortunate raider to turn the corner, a woman in painspike armor that never saw what hit her.

_He really is insane, _Isaac thought to himself as he crept along the registers, seeing a male raider with a blue mohawk wearing badlands armor climbing over a counter in the front-right corner of the store and drawing a lead pipe. Isaac grinned as he watched the raider turn his back to him, and got an idea. Moving as quickly as he could without making noise, Isaac snuck behind the raider and drew his combat knife. Gunfire rang throughout the store as Mikhail battled the other raiders, masking Isaac as he leapt up and clapped his left hand over the raider's chin, forcing his head back as he dragged the sharp blade of the combat knife through the tendons and sinew of the man's throat. A blood-choked gurgle ruined the raider's last words as Isaac dropped him to the ground and drew his rifle.

* * *

"Come on! Come to Mikhail!" Mikhail roared, rolling over a counter in the back left corner of the store that the raiders had vacated when they came looking for him. He took aim and blasted another raider, sending the corpse flying into the wall, and was forced to duck as small arms fire pockmarked the counter. To his surprise, he saw Isaac coming from around the far side of the store, rifle leveled on the raiders that were too busy focusing on Mikhail.

"Boy's a natural," Mikhail laughed, blind-firing his shotgun over the counter, though making sure to point it in a direction away from where he had seen Isaac. A raider's pained scream was his reward. Two quick gunshots from a rifle sounded, and Mikhail aimed over the counter, seeing Isaac ducking out and shooting from behind a long-broken display freezer.

Four raiders were left out of the lot: One male with short cropped brown hair, dirty pale skin, wearing more painspike armor and wielding a sawed-off shotgun; a female with green pigtails coming from the back of her head and almost no other hair, beige skin, wearing revealing blaster-master armor and holding a hunting rifle; and two more males who looked almost like twins, with making black fringes for hair, light brown skin, and both wearing badlands armor and wielding knives. Mikhail took aim at the one with the shotgun.

"Ey, suka!" Mikhail called, getting the shotgun-wielder to turn just enough for the full blast of Mikhail's Saiga-12 to riddle the man's chest with a dozen tiny holes and take him off his feet. A bullet from Isaac's hunting rifle took the woman, splattering her head in a hundred pieces along a wall in a brilliant spray. Two quick blasts from Mikhail's Saiga dealt with the knife-wielding twins, their armor giving them little-to-no protection from the shotgun blasts.

"We good?" Isaac called, as the last body hit the floor. "Because I really need to reload."

"We good!" Mikhail confirmed with a laugh, waving Isaac over. The former Vault-Dweller jogged from his place on Aisle 9, skirting the bodies. He took the small hallway that actually led to the area Mikhail was standing in, and grinned at the big man.

"I found the food, and a key," he grinned, patting his satchel as he drew a small key from his left-hand pocket. "Bet you fifteen caps that door is locked," he nodded at the door in the back of the area, which stood next to a desk with a terminal.

"Is not much of a bet," Mikhail said, as Isaac walked past him to try the door. It was indeed locked, and the key did in fact open it.

"Jackpot!" Isaac said as he swung the door open and saw the medical stash they were supposed to find, along with much more. Inside the room was also a Protectron charging center, at least a dozen old shelves littered with different kinds of alcohol and various other junk, and several crates of Nuka-Cola were in the back-right corner of the room. The biggest prizes, however, were the four grenades on the table, alongside several ammo boxes and what looked like a model of the warhead in the heart of Megaton.

"Is d'at..? No..." Mikhail said, walking into the room and picking up what Isaac thought was a model. "D'is is a Mini-Nuke!"

"A Mini-what?" Isaac replied, shocked at Mikhail's words.

"D'ese are like gold nuggets around here. Is miniature nuclear warhead, fired out of hi-tech slingshot called Fet Man," Mikhail explained, as he put the mini-nuke in his bag. "I'll get the explosives... and the alcohol."

"Thinking of drinking, _now?"_ Isaac asked, as he began picking a lock on one of the ammo-boxes.

"Nyeht. Well, little later," Mikhail said, stuffing whiskey and vodka bottles in his bag along with the grenades, "But I'm sure Moriarty would pay good for d'em, too."

"Hadn't thought of that," Isaac relented as he got the first box open.

When they had thoroughly scavenged the room and Isaac had carefully stuffed the medical supplies in his bag, the two grinned at each other. By the end of their scavenging, they had to have at least three-hundred caps worth of stuff, not to mention the Mini-Nuke, which Mikhail explained was worth at least a couple hundred on its own.

"Let's get back to town," Mikhail said, starting for the door as a crackling came over the intercom.

"**Hey, you guys, we're back. Wait, what the shit? What happened here!?"**

"Okay, Yankee, no stealth now," Mikhail said with an evil grin as he extracted. "Now Mikhail gets to play."

* * *

**I'm not even going to bother apologizing for the long gap this time. Life's been a little crazy, and I lost the muse to work on this chapter when I had it half-way down and accidentally deleted a huge chunk of it. Thankfully now it is done. Wanted to get started on Isaac earning his way out in the big bad Wastes. I also really wanted to try and portray Mikhail's role in things a bit more, not just as Isaac's first friend outside of the Vault, but also sort of as a mentor to him. Admit it, life in the Capitol Wasteland was so much better when you had someone let you know before you did something stupid. Anyways, if the muse stays with me this time I should have another chapter up pretty soon as I have the weekend off from work.**

**Part of the chapter's antic between the two is admittedly inspired by my friend Quinn and I's antics in online games, where he will run around aggroing the hell out of the enemy, and I'll come out of nowhere and stab bitches. Another part was the anime Black Lagoon(go check that shit out if you like the action-genre, but if you're reading this you probably do).**

**Yours truly, this is Relks The Disturbed and you're reading Fallout: The Journey Forward. A new and insane Capitol Wasteland, and we're here, for you!**


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